Teenagers
by thenastyloveblog
Summary: Mikey Way of My Chemical Romance is a depressed teen suffering from social anxiety. His brother, Gerard, has decided to go to art school, and is moving away. Mikey has to learn how to survive on his own. Frikey This story is up on mibba in case it gets deleted from here WARNING: This story involves sex, drugs, alcohol, depression, self harm, mentions of suicide and violence.
1. Chapter 1

Teenagers

**Tell Me I'll Be Fine**

"Close your eyes. It helps sometimes," Gerard says, holding me tight. "Pretend you're somewhere else, under happier circumstances."

He's trying to stay strong. Older siblings tend to be the strong ones. But it's easy to hear that he's struggling. Why wouldn't he be? His voice constantly breaks and shakes. I can feel every rib, every dent, every cringe of his beautiful body. And, if I'm not completely mistaken, those are warm, salty tears dripping onto my shoulder.

There's a big knot forming at the pit of my stomach. "You said you wouldn't leave me. You said I wouldn't be alone again. You promised, Gee. You promised," I whimper, fighting the stinging sensation forming in the corner of my eye. Blinking and blinking. Trying to hold the tears back, trying to force the lump in my throat to go away.

Gerard is a sensitive guy. He says it's fine to cry, in fact, he cries a lot. It's nothing against him. It's people in general. I don't like it when they see me vulnerable. I don't like showing weakness. Some might call it social anxiety; others, specifically high school kids, would call it being weird.

Being weird isn't always a bad thing. Gerard is weird, yet he has loads of friends.

"Mikes, that was 3 years ago. Besides, you won't be alone. You have Frank and Ray at school." Gee says it as if they are _my_friends. "And you can call me any time you want," he continues, slowly stroking my back in a rhythmic pattern. "You'll be okay."

Gee and I talk about everything. He's my go to guy. We've always been this tight. We've always had a special bond. He's always been the popular one, the one who has friends and makes new ones. Sometimes he lets me hang out with him and his friends. I get really low sometimes. He doesn't like seeing me depressed. He does everything in his power to keep me busy. He's a great brother.

My mouth is dry. Extremely dry. I don't really know what to say anymore… He's going away, and there is nothing I can do about it. It scares me. The thought of it scares me. Being alone scares me.

But the fear of being alone is not even close to the fear of being social; actually having to interact with other people besides Gerard. He's always been there to protect me.

The next thought that pops into my head strikes me like a fist to the gut, and, as the air whooshes out of my lungs, I whisper, "Does this mean I'll have to go back to mom and dad?"

Gee's expression is enough to draw the tears from my eyes. Warm, salty drops roll down my red cheeks. "Gee, I can't go back. You know I can't. Don't you remember what happened? Don't you remember their reactions!?" I cry.

Gerard tightens his grip as I feel him cringe. Sob. Weep. I hear the deafened whines coming out of his mouth as he squeezes me as tight as humanly possible. His shaky breath warms the back of my neck. I could stand here, holding him, forever. That's all I want. I don't ever want to let go.

But the dream of standing here forever is destroyed as Gerard pulls away, tears bucketing from his eyes. 'I'm sorry' he mouths, no sound escaping him.

The night is dark. Darker than usual I mean. Not one star is to be seen in the deep blue sky. Not one star is shining, showing its existence this mournful night. Not one star is there saying "even though it's dark right now, somewhere there is light." No. Tonight is dark.

Gee lay next to me, quietly. We've both gone empty. What do you say when no words can ever come close to explaining what you are feeling? What do you say when you don't even understand what you are feeling?

Tears are streaming down both of our cheeks. Gee is holding me, protecting me from the evil world outside of his safe arms.

My room is more depressing than usual, darker. The cold, grey walls make me feel trapped, like I couldn't get out even if I tried. Not that I'd want to leave. Not when Gee's here at least.

Gerard's deep, gasping breaths are like silk stroking my neck. His deafened cries break my heart. Although we are together, I know this is the loneliest any of us have ever felt.

I can't stop the tears from escaping my eyes, one after the other, although it feels like I went numb hours ago. It feels like something is pressing on top of my heart, forcing it down into my stomach, and making it stay there.

Here we lay, on my bed, in the dark, minutes passing like hours.

The bright, backlit clock on my nightstand says it's 04.12am. I can still hear Gerard. I can still feel him. He's still crying. It's softer now, less painful. He's still holding me just as tight.

We haven't moved an inch since we went to bed. I feel so exhausted. After hours of staring, the blank wall in front of me is getting pretty dull. I just want to fall into a deep sleep, and dream about how things will work out. I want to forget about the rest of the world.

As I struggle to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss out on one second with Gee, I hear raindrops land on my ceiling window. It's a soft sound, a soothing sound, but also a depressing sound.

"Gee, tell me I'll be fine…" I whisper subconsciously and, as I drift into a deep sleep I hear a soft, reassuring "you are fine".

It is dark out, and it doesn't seem to be getting any lighter. Not for a while. I don't mind though. I'm used to darkness. I've been living in it the past 16 years. What's another?


	2. Chapter 2

Teenagers chapter2

**Not Dead Yet**

"It's not the end of the world" Gerard states, deeply inhaling the smoke from his cigarette before slowly letting it flow out of his mouth and nose.

It may not seem so to him, but to me on the other hand... The way the sun is colliding with the mountains in the distance is enough to make me tear up. There are so many different shades of red and yellow in the sky this evening. It's almost as if the sky has caught fire. Now would be the perfect time for it to do so. If the world was to end, I'd want it to end tonight, quickly and painlessly.

This is my last day living with Gerard. This is my last night in this house. He has decided to go to art school, and he's leaving me behind, alone. Everything is packed and ready and he's leaving tomorrow.

I'll have to go back to mom and dad. What will I say? I haven't seen or heard from them in years. What does one say when there is nothing left to be said? I'll have to go back to everything I was so pleased to leave in the past. "Yeah," I smirk, trying to hide the shakiness of my voice, but failing miserably. "that's what you think."

Gee looks broken. He looks tired. He's been this way ever since he told me he was leaving. "Please don't do this again Mikey." I've been staring at him all evening, but he can't even look at me for more than a couple of seconds. When he does, he looks repulsed.

I'm sitting on the cold, stone railing of the steps out to the porch; He's sitting as far away as possible. I hate that this is how it has to end, that this is how our last night together is going to be. "You're stronger than you were back then. I need to live my own life now, baby brother." Gee says, shifting his gaze from his shoes to the mountains. He sounds frustrated; Kind of distant. It's cold out, for summer weather that is. That's fine though, I like cold. So does Gerard.

Birds chirp as the sun melts into the earth, disappearing completely, the moon taking its place as the only big, shining object in the sky. Gee and I have been sitting here, in this uncomfortable silence for way to long now.

My eyes drift from Gerard to the shadows in the horizon that once were mountains. What if there is a world out there, beyond this lonely hell I'm living in. What if there is a place out there where I fit in, where I feel comfortable.

I take a quick glance at Gee; he's looking at me now, a suspicious grin on his face. "There is something beyond this you know." His words comfort me. It's almost as if he knows what I'm thinking. "You just need time to find it, Mikes" he reassures, yawning and stretching his arms and legs, my eyes slowly wandering back to the mountains.

Gee always knows what to say. "I sure hope so." I'm the opposite. There's a warm, soft hand on my shoulder. Gerard sits down next to me, shaking his jet black hair away from his greenish eyes. He grabs me, pulling me in and hugging me tightly. "I promise."

I just kind of sit there, incapable of moving, unable to think, numb, staring off into the darkness. He notices how unresponsive I am, and slowly pulls away. "Mikes, please don't shut down again. I need you; I just don't need you with me."

It hurts, knowing that you need someone more than they need you. My entire being is shaking now. The bitter feel of betrayal creeps in to my chest, like a sly snake, making my heart thump louder and louder, until it's all I can hear.

"BUT I NEED YOU! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I CAN'T SURVIVE WITHOUT YOU?" I scream, breaking the ear wrenching silence. Gee breaks down, weeping. I didn't mean for this to happen. I never wanted to hurt him; it just always comes out wrong. I just wanted to make my point. Why can't I ever do anything right?

I lean over trying to pat Gerard's shoulder, but he quickly pushes me off, covers his face with his strong hands, and runs inside. A door slams before I even have time to get up. Fuck.

"Gee, I didn't mean to upset you." I cry. The bathroom door is bolted shut; I can hear Gerard's heartbreaking sobs inside. "I'm sorry." I scream. There's no response. Back against the door, I slowly slide down, ready to sit here all night if I have to.

"I just love you, that's all." I mumble.  
"I love you too, so much. I don't want to leave you Mikes, why can't you see that? You're making this so much harder!" He replies, voice cracking and trembling.

"I need this! I need to follow my dream, and find myself. You're being so selfish. I can't save you." I guess he's right, about the selfish part that is. He's been taking care of me this past year, and I've been _way_ too dependent on him. He's only 19; he shouldn't have to bear the responsibility of taking care of a 16 year old on his shoulders.

I really have been hurting him, so much. I've just decided to ignore it. He deserves a break. "I know." I whisper. The door suddenly flings open, Gerard pouncing out, picking me up off the floor, forcing me up against the wall. "You just said "I know."" He smiles.

"And?" I wonder.  
"If you know that I can't save you then what are you still doing here? If I'm not the one who has been keeping you alive, than who has? You, baby brother, you have." He's laughing now, like he knows something I don't. I don't really understand what he's implying, but I can't help but be happy when I see Gee this way.

****************************

"It's not like I'm leaving forever." Gerard promises. It seems like he needs his comforting more than I do. "I'll be back next summer." Next summer, that's almost a whole year without him. "I know." I nervously giggle. It's weird to think that the next time I see him; both he and I will be one year older.

The house is so empty. The moving truck has already been here, and the only things left are Gerard's carryon bag and suitcases and my bags upstairs. "The taxi will be here to pick you up in a half an hour." He's tearing up now. "Ok." I say, choked up. I clear my throat as I pull him in, squeezing him one last time before he leaves. Neither of us can stop the tears now. He wraps his arms around my hips quickly lifting me off the ground.

We stand here, holding each other, crying, for what seems like forever.

I jump at the sound of the taxy guy beeping the horn outside. Gerard pulls away, lifting his bags up off the cold wooden floor, and rushes out the door leaving me speechless, empty and cold. The shock hits me like a ton of bricks.

I hurry out the door, waving both my hands in the air, looking like a crazy person and not caring. I chase the car out of the driveway and as far as I can, but eventually, it picks up speed.

I see Gerard through the rear window waving one last time, tears streaming down his face, before they disappear around a corner. I'm left with the odd feeling of accomplishment. I'm not dead yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Teenagers chapter3

**Thinking Of The Past**

Mom and dad's place is quite horrible. It's so silent and tense. There's nothing to do, nothing to say. They did an excellent job on hiding the huge crack splitting the family in two.

There are family photos on the walls, old photos. Photos from when Gerard and I were young and innocent. Photos from before we were exposed to the real world. Before we were thrust into the unfairness of this cruel world.

The walls of my generously sized bedroom are all white. They are all empty, just like I was before I left this place. Luckily Gerard was observant enough to see that I was dying here. Slowly becoming something I was not. Slowly becoming _normal_, like everyone else. The world is so evil and judgmental sometimes. I was so afraid of sticking out, that I'd rather be nothing.

Luckily Gerard saved me. He showed me that there are decent people out there, people who don't judge you for wearing slim fit jeans or all black, people who actually don't give a shit, people who couldn't care less about what you're wearing, people like Frank and Ray. Too bad I'm so fucking awkward.

_"Mom, dad, I'm gay." My voice trembles, as I force it out, words choking me on the way up. My head is burning and it feels like it's ready to explode. _

Gerard has known for a while now. He's fine with it. My parents on the other hand…

_"No you're not." Dad laughs, shaking his head. His eyes masking a fright I've never seen before. A fright you only see in movies._

"You're just young and confused." My mom says, quickly brushing the subject under the carpet, ready to leave it there for the rest of her life. The problem with that is that sooner or later someone will trip and fall. I don't want that to be me. This time I'm not the one who's going to end up hurt. "Okay, fine. I am young, but I'm not confused." I blurt out, disgusted and hurt.

"That's what you think Mikey. Soon you'll find a beautiful young girl who makes you see things differently." Mom's soft, confident voice aggravates me. Dad just sits in his chair in the corner of our overly cleaned living room, staring at the cold wooden floor in front of his feet. "What have I done wrong?!" he slyly whispers, my insides turning and knotting in repulsion.

I've just been hanging around my house all day, reading some of my old comic books. I mean what else is there to do around here? I have no friends, no computer, no TV and no place to go. In one way I can't wait for school to start tomorrow. I can't wait to get out of this hell hole, this pit of depression if only for a few hours.

_"THEY SAID WHAT!?" Gerard furiously exclaims. I can't stick up for myself, but he sure knows how to. He's been doing it all his life; fighting for both his and my right to be who we are. People usually respect him for that. But this, this was the last straw. Gerard rushes out of the room leaving me in a haze of shock and confusion._

This scares me so much. I'm horrified. What will they do to us, our parents I mean? All I can hear are raised voices until suddenly all is silent.

Gerard bursts through my bedroom door. I've never seen him this pissed off. "Pack up." He quickly says, pointing in the direction of my closet. "We're going to live with grandma." He's stressed, awfully stressed. If I could do something to calm him down, I would. "but.." before I have the time to say anything else I am interrupted by his aggravated voice. "Just do it, Mikey; unless you want to stay here alone with mom and dad." Well I guess that settles it then. Off to grandmas we go.

Living with grandma wasn't all bad. It could get a bit dull at times, and she didn't care for our cursing, but other than that I quite liked it. She was always warm and accepting. She didn't care about how we dressed, or our sexual orientation. We were still the same kids we always had been. Oh, and the food. The food was great. She was such a beautiful, kind spirited person. Man, do I miss her.

_The door slams shut. I run around the house gathering all the meds I can find, knocking over photos and furniture on the way. I've gone mad. There is a familiar voice coming from outside. "Mikey! MIKEY!" I hysterically tug the bathroom door open, making sure to quickly lock it behind me._

The funeral was horrible. Not in a "they didn't do a good job" sense of the word though, rather in a "Devastating, couldn't stop crying" sort of way.

Seeing her that one last time, knowing that she couldn't hear a word of what I was saying. Knowing that even though her body was there, _she_ wasn't.

Later seeing her slowly, being lowered into the ground and being buried in soil, before disappearing completely. Becoming one with the earth, like she never existed. I broke. I ran; as fast as I could, as far as I could. I ran to her, or should I say, _our_, old house.

The house where I'd been saved. Saved from a life of nothingness, saved from my past, and saved from my parents. I still remember the nights when she fought for me over the phone. She protected me the way Gerard protects me now. She protected me from my own parents.

_"MIKEY! Mikey, don't! MIKEY, OPEN UP THE DOOR THIS INSTANT!" Gerard screams breathlessly. He sounds terrified, but I can't do anything about it. There's nothing left to live for now. _

_"Gerard, don't even bother. I'll be with her soon." I cry. I don't want to say good bye to him, but I can't take it anymore. I open one of the pill containers and start shoving them in my mouth, one after the other. Slowly swallowing them, gaging on some. Gerard is pounding desperately on the door. "MIKEY PLEASE!"_

The room starts spinning now, and I'm getting woozy. Every movement gets more tiring, until I finally am trapped in my own skin. Exhaustion creeps up on me. I can hardly keep my heavy eyelids open anymore. I finally let go.

My head falls backwards, hitting the wall with a loud bang. So this is what dying feels like. It's colder than I expected. I'm in a haze, drifting in and out of consciousness. It's so quiet. It's so peaceful.

There is a blurred blob moving in front of me; hurrying back and forth. It lifts me up, to a sitting position, but I can't feel a thing. There is no warmth where it is holding me, no tension. What is it? Is it an angel? Is it taking me to heaven? Why is it dressed in black?

Suddenly the angel is right up in my face. I can see a bit clearer now. It has a pointy nose, and greenish eyes. Oh how beautiful those eyes are. Wait a second, I know those eyes. Those are Gerard's eyes. Gerard! It's Gerard!

Gerard forces his finger down my throat, causing a pool of vomit to form on my lap. "Sorry." He mouths, hugging me tightly as I think I hear muted sirens in the distance.

This is my first week back in my childhood home, and I'm already sick of it. Gerard still hasn't called me back, and I'm getting way to nostalgic and depressed.


	4. Chapter 4

Teenagers chapter4

**Frank**

"Frank! Frank, wait up." I yell stumbling down the overly crowded hallway, almost falling flat on my face several times.

"Oh hey, Mikes." Frank smiles catching me as I trip on a random stranger's foot, fly through the air, and land straight in his embracing arms. "Smooth…" He laughs, lifting me back to my feet, my face burning as I push my glasses back onto the bridge of my nose. God! That was embarrassing.

"Mikey, it's fine, don't even think about it." Frank giggles comfortingly as he carefully pats my back. He's always in such a good mood. He's always so kind. He's a beautiful person.

I stare at him in awe as we saunter down the corridor. "How do you do it, Frank?"

Frankie used to be only Gerard's friend. Well, him and Ray. Frank is 17 years old. Ray is 18. The tree of them used to play in the marching band together when they were kids. Gee was kind enough to introduce us. I don't know them too well, but from what I do know they are some of the kindest people on this planet. I can't even imagine how they could be any nicer.

"Do what?" He wonders, cocking a brow, curiosity clearly expressed in his hazel eyes.

"I don't know… Not care… or care…. Well care about the right things. You just seem to have everything put together, to have your life sorted out. You just seem so _happy_." I stutter nervously, drying my clammy palms off on my pitch black slim fit jeans.

"Believe me; I don't have my life put together." He calmly expresses, smiling. "I'm pretty sure no one does at this age, but that's fine, we have all the time in the world." That is a valid point. I'm not the only one who's in doubt about the future, and the thought of that comforts me. I do have time.

Gerard is good at making friends. Deep friends. Friends who understand. Frank, like Gerard, always knows what to say. So does Ray.

All of his friends have experienced pain, they've known what it's like to be alone, and I believe that that plays an important part in being able to help others. Knowing what they're going through is irreplaceable.

**

The scraping of chalk against the blackboard puts me on edge. There are low voices tossing sly comments back and forth. Blank cream colored walls surround me. They make me feel imprisoned; they make me feel unwell.

The sun leaves a shining stain on the blackboard growing bigger by the minute. There's dust flying abound the classroom, causing people to sneeze and squint.

I wonder what Gee is up to right now? I wonder if he too is feeling imprisoned or thinking about me. I hope he's happier than I am right now. I really do. I hope he's having the time of his life, drawing and being creative. He has an amazing imagination.

"MIKEY! Either you pay attention or you leave. I asked you a question!" Mr. Davis yells, forcing a very familiar burning sensation to form around my eyes. My head could explode any second. "Sorry?" I choke, barely making a sound.

"So?" He continues as I feel judging glares burn into the back of my skull.

The tears willfully press on, and burst out of my eye sockets, causing me to jump out of my chair and sprint out; leaving a room filled with laughter and pointed fingers.

My heart races as I sprint down the hall, I need to get out of here. I'm never coming back. I close in on the main entrance, running as if my life depends on it. It kind of does though.

I throw my fragile body into the bright world outside of this prison they call a_high school _. It's completely quiet outside, there's not one soul to be seen. The only sound I hear is the soft summer breeze. It rustles the leaves on the trees on the far end of the concrete schoolyard. This situation is not normal for me. I've never skipped school my entire life. The thought sends shivers down my spine.

Suddenly I hear a whisper of a voice. "Mikey? Mikey." Frank is peeking his head around the corner of the building. "What are you up to?" He giggles. "I didn't know you were a shit kid."

I'm offended. I'm not a shit kid. I have a good reason to be out here.

"Relax. I'm only joking." Frank laughs casually. I didn't know my expression was so obvious. I didn't know he knew me so well. I on the other hand know nothing about him, clearly.

"What are _you_ doing out here?" I wonder, surprised by the fact that he's not in class.

"What? Are you going to tell on me?" He jokes, acting all macho. He's so short and skinny so it looks quite funny.

I chuckle, as I slowly run my fingers through my silky, dark brown hair. "WOW! What was that?" Frank looks shocked. "Was that a giggle?!" He is being way to dramatic, but it amuses me, and I can't help but let out another laugh, this time not so quietly.

Frank makes me nervous. In a good way though. Whenever I'm with him I want to show off. I'm not as shy. My hands get all sweaty, and I get so much energy out of nowhere. I like being with him a lot, and I think he enjoys me as well. He's the only other person, besides Gerard, that I actually _enjoy_hanging out with, in fact I _look forward_ to it.

The trees around us slowly sway back and forth, calmly, beautifully. Frankie has brought me to his _shirk place_, as he calls it. This is where he goes when he skips class. I don't really know how I feel about that, because that must mean that he does it quite often, but on the other hand, I understand why he does it.

The way the sun weakly glimmers through the trees is amazing. This must be the most relaxing, beautiful place on this earth. I wish Gerard was here with me.

Frank is distantly staring off into the forest. "Isn't it beautiful, Mikey?" His beautiful hazel eyes look touched, thoughtful, and maybe even sad. They aren't shining as brightly as they usually do.

"I can't quite… I don't… I can't" I stutter, left overwhelmed and speechless by my surroundings.

"I know." He eventually says. And it really feels like he does know. Like he understands exactly what I'm feeling. I feel less _alone_ when I'm with Frank.

He and I sit here, in the middle of the woods, for hours, just talking. Talking and laughing. Talking about shallow things. Things like our favorite colors and music. It's nice, not having to pour your heart out every time you speak. It's _relaxing_.

Whenever Frank laughs he throws his head back for extra dramatics, and eventually he lays down. I shortly follow, not caring if my clothes get dirty.

He's silent for a while, waiting for the right time. "I know you've had a tough life Mike. Gee told me. I just want you to know, i know what feeling like an outcast is like, and it doesn't matter to me if your gay. I'm here for you whenever"

My emotions go wild, leaving my head a mess. HOW COULD GERARD TELL HIM WITHOUT TALKING TO ME ABOUT IT?! Well, he was only doing it for my good. He probably knew Frank would understand... How much does he know. Does anyone else know? I hope not. Wow, but Frank took that really well, and I guess Gerard needed someone to talk to as much as I did.

A warmth spreads throughout my body, and i choke up, tears silently running down my cheeks, soaking the forest floor.

Frank continues staring intensely at the sky, not making a sound.

"Thank you, Frank. I mean it."


	5. Chapter 5

Teenagers chapter5

**So Glad I Met You**

Frank looks really happy. Like, happier than normal. More at peace, if that's even possible. His eyes are glazed and red, and he seems kind of distant though.

I'm not used to partying. Frank noticed how uncomfortable I was, and now we're alone on the carpeted floor of his room. We're just talking, as we usually do. The only difference is that now there's a blasting base shaking the entire house, and there's alcohol involved.

I'm feeling a little depressed to be honest. Nostalgic to be specific. I really miss Gee. I miss his warm safe arms so much, the way they held me so strongly, the way they protected me. The way _he_ protected me. I miss his sweet scent. I just miss everything about his beautiful self.

Suddenly, I'm drawn back to reality by the warm tears of longing that are streaming down my cheeks. I blush. Frank looks concerned. "Oh fuck." I whisper, wiping them softly from my face.

"What's wrong Mikey? Are you ok?"

I'm not okay. I'm not. "I just miss Gerard… Like a lot. I feel so… well…. vulnerable without him. Like I could crack at any moment… I feel so hollow… "

"Oh… I completely understand… Well I'm here for you, If you ever want to talk…. About anything… if… if there is anything I could do...I just… I swear…. I'd do it. I hate seeing you like this." He painfully expresses.

It's touching that he cares so much for me. It makes it easy to talk to him. It makes it easy to trust him. I actually _want_ him to know _everything_. I need someone to talk to. About the past, that is. I need to get it out of my system, so I can let go.

******

"I don't really know why I did it, you know. It just kind of built up. I'd always had it in me, but suddenly, when granny died, I was just… overwhelmed. It was kind of the heat of the moment, you know. Like I felt so… well _free_… Kind of like "I'm done… no more worries." I don't know… It was stupid… this is stupid…." I hesitate, stuttering.

Frank just sits there for a while. His expression completely blank. He's so quiet. It makes me nervous. What if he thinks I'm weird? What if he tells someone? Just like Gerard, he knows exactly what I'm thinking… I must be quite easy to read.

"It's not stupid. To be honest, I find it quite interesting. I know how lonely this world can seem… How _ugly_ it can be, but you're never as alone as you feel…" He pulls up his left sleeve, reviling what once were deep lacerations on his wrist. They've had some time to heal, and are now pale white scars.

"I can _relate_… You know, I'm at least as fucked up as you are, kid." He laughs, comfortingly. His hazel eyes are locked with mine, they shine with something more than compassion. His perfectly shaped eyebrows are furrowed, as he clears his throat.

It really hurts to know that he too has experienced such a tremendous pain, that he too has felt completely alone. He deserves so much better. No one deserves to feel the way I did.

Usually I'd have looked down by now. I would have avoided the awkwardness of the situation by staring at my shoes, but I can't. I don't even _want_ to.

Frank shifts his weight, moving closer to me. He's trying to make it look natural, but I know deep down, he wants to sit as close as possible.

"I'm so sorry Frank…. I really am…I just… I wish.." I'm rudely interrupted.

"You're cute when you stutter." He giggles smoothly, seductively, clearly a little tipsy.

I'm shocked. Frank thinks I'm cute. How do I even respond to that? He's so hot. How does _he_ like _me_?

Fuck. I'm getting all sweaty and stressed out. I rip my eyes from his gaze nervously swallowing. As I lift my sight, ready to meet his again, my lips are caught by his.

I close my eyes, trying to savor every moment, every peck, every heaving breath. His soft lips briefly caress my neck before moving back to mine.

His strong hands grip the back of my neck pulling me close, forcing my chapped lips to intertwine with his. The taste of his mouth is appetizing. I want more.

I throw myself at him; his lips tightening to what feels like a grin. He lets out a giggle, one of those adorable ones that he makes when he's having fun, as he leans backwards. Eventually, we fall to the ground. He rolls me over onto my back as he climbs on top of me, stroking his burning body against mine.

He slowly pulls away, leaving me starving for more. I let out a deafened whimper, as I reluctantly open my eyes. I'm immediately met by his big hazel eyes. I can't even express how unbelievably beautiful they are. He looks so innocent, although he isn't.

"I'm so glad I met you." I softly whisper, leaning back in. "You're such a tease." He smirks, meeting me half way, craving more. I'm left speechless.

At this moment I can forget the rest of the world and all of my anxiety issues. At this moment I'm at peace. This moment is perfect.


	6. Chapter 6

Teenagers Chapter6

[i]The bell rings as I slam my locker shut, placing the books needed for my next lesson under my arm and bolting in the direction of my next class. As I jog down the nearly empty hallway, I try to avoid any human contact. I try not to look at or talk to anyone as long as I don't have to. No one at this school knows me. No one even cares. No one but Frank that is.

Frank got held back a year of chemistry because he skipped most of the tests last year. Incidentally, that's what's next.

Everyone is already seated as I nervously enter the overly lit classroom.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Way." An un-approving Mrs. York says, cocking an eyebrow as she speaks. "and do you know where Mr. Iero, your partner in crime is?" She suspiciously continues.

It's not until now that I notice he's missing. For once, I don't know where he is. Where is he?

"Yeah, where's your boyfriend." One of the jocks mockingly laughs.

No one knows yet. No one knows that he actually is my boyfriend. That when they're not around, we hold hands, we flirt, we even make out. Just like any other normal couple.

They're all homophobic ass holes. The whole school.

I ignore the comment. Politely replying. "No. I'm not sure where he is, Mrs. York."

As soon as the lesson ends I sprint out of the classroom. I head towards the forest. The shirk place, that's where he must be. He has to be there, which is weird because it's clouded out, and it's raining cats and dogs. Why would he be there? But then again, where else could he be?

The opening in the forest is completely empty. All I hear are the birds chirping in the trees. Tweet, tweet.

"Frank!" There's no reply, only a scaring silence.

"Frank! Frank… Where are you? Pick up." I whisper. The fact that I haven't seen or talked to him all day frightens me. He's always at school, he's just not always at school. "Why aren't you picking up?"

That's it. I can't just sit here anymore. What if something's wrong? What if he needs my help? I'm walking over to his house, right now. Maybe his parents know where he is, if they're home that is.

Its dart out, but I'm greeted by a darker house. It's completely empty. Something is off. The door is not shut completely.

The familiar stench of dried blood hits me like a ton of bricks as I take one more baby step towards the slightly cracked door. My shaky hands are barely capable of shoving it open. It reviles a sight I'd never wish upon anyone. A sight that knocks the breath right out of me. A sight that could easily have killed me.

There, right in front of me, one of my most dreaded fears come to life. Frank, on the floor, covered in blood. Gasping for air, and clasping a deep wound on his stomach. For a second I just stand there, unable to soak it in, my heart jumping out of my chest. My entire being starts to tremble as my stomach churns. The mac and cheese from lunch could come right back up at any moment. I collapse onto the floor and drag my fragile body over to him.

"Frank. Frank, look at me. FRANK!" His eyes wander all over the place, searching for my voice, but he can't find me. He can't focus. He's lost. Completely lost.

"Frank, I'm right here. I won't leave you, I promise. Frank, what happened?! What have you done!? Frank! What have you done? Stay here, stay with me Frank.." I ramble on as I struggle to fish my cellphone out of my skin tight pockets, only to fumble on, dropping it several times on the floor as I try to dial 911.

"Help! Help me!"

Minutes have passed now, but it feels closer to hours. His blinking is getting heavier; he's really struggling to stay awake, to keep his eyes open. To stay. He's drowning in his own mind, as well as his own blood.

I lift his limp head onto my lap, fighting for his attention. Fighting to meet his distant gaze as his eyes flutter from one end of the room to the other, but they are not what they used to be. They are not full of life and light. They are empty and cold. As cold as the skin of his forehead is towards the palm of my hand.

I clutch on to his stomach, trying to cover the throbbing wound. Trying to stop the life from escaping his shell of a body, trying to stop the bleeding. He lets out a low whimper as tears stream down his cheeks. The poor thing is in so much pain.

"Frank, stay. Frank I need you!" I plead. "Please! Don't leave me. PLEASE! DON'T GO!" I scream, I cry, I beg. Nothing is helping.

He's so distant, so vacant, but not dead. Not yet. His chest slowly lifts and drops unevenly as he coughs, this time there is thick, dark blood. It runs down the side of his cheek and onto my shirt.

Is he really leaving me? Is he going? I can't go on without him. I can't be alone again. He was the last good thing in this hell hole.

"Oh, Frank!" I collapse on top of him, screaming. The faint thump of a heartbeat fights through the silence getting weaker and weaker as I hear the clear sound of sirens in the distance.[/i]

Beep, beep beep.

The alarm rings.

All of a sudden I throw my sweaty body up to a sitting position, head spinning and thumping. Where am I? How did I get to my bedroom? Where is Frank? Is he okay? I'm completely disoriented. What the fuck is going on?

It was all a dream! Thank GOD! IT WAS ALL A DREAM! Well almost all of it. Frank still hasn't talked to me since the party. It's only been 2 days, but he's ignored me completely. At school he doesn't even look at me. Well at least he's not dead.


	7. Chapter 7

Teenagers chapter7

It's been a week. Frank, where the [i]fuck[/i] are you? You've been downright ignoring me. I thought you liked me. Why would you trick me in such an awful way? Why would you say I was cute and [i]kiss[/i] me if you weren't into me? I've hardly seen you at school, and you haven't been at the shirk place either.

I'm such an idiot! Why did I let myself fall for him?! Dear God! I was falling for him! I'm so fucking gullible. You know what? Fuck him. Fuck this world and all the people in it. All people ever do is disappoint me. I should've seen it coming by now. I just want someone to trust; someone who appreciates me, but then again, that might be too much to ask for.

I mean what's the point? We're all going to die right? We're all going to hell. None of us are holy. None of us are pure.

I'm scared though. I'm scared of what comes after death. The nothingness you become. The unimportance of it all. It's like you never actually were there. You just[i]dissappear[/i]. Like you were nothing but a memory, and that's all you'll ever be. I want to be [i]remembered [/i].

I get the familiar feeling that my dark, imprisoning room is closing in on me. I'm so trapped, so helpless. There's no one left to save me. Why do I feel so alone? I feel so abandoned. I should be used to that by now, but I'm not. People are meant to love. They are meant to be together, and I don't think I'll ever get used to being lonely.

My right hand automatically reaches towards my heart and clenches my shirt as I curl my skinny knees up to my chest. I lay on my cold, hard mattress, in the room filled with nothing but unpleasant memories. My chest is physically aching. It's so hollow, so empty. I won't ever get well. I'll never be the innocent kid I once was.

Tears of longing stream down my cheeks. I just want to go back. I just want Gerard's warm embrace. I want him to protect me again, his safety. I want his sweet scent back. His breath in the back of my neck. I want him to tell me that I'll be ok. I want him to tell me that things will work out.

"Oh God…" I cry, not quite getting enough air, and hyperventilating slightly "Why can't I just go back?"

It's not as if anyone's home so no one can hear me, but it's not as if anyone would care even if they were home. I can't wait to get out of this place. I feel so worthless here. I'm meant for something bigger than this, I know it.

Why did I take those pills? I've been off them since my breakdown. It's been really difficult, but I've managed, for Gee. I stole them from him after he had confiscated them from Frank. Gerard never noticed they were missing. Frank used to be a druggie, but he cleaned up very well. Gerard had to be there for both him and me during our meltdowns. Gerard is so strong.

The drugs leave me in a haze, not quite there, but not quite gone either. Dizzy and exhausted, trapped in my own mind, and drowning in self-hatred.

Gerard says they take away my personality, the pills, that I'm not [i]me[/i] when I take them. He says that even my depression is a part of me, and I shouldn't try to cover it up, especially by taking pills that actually make me feel worse. He makes a valid point, but I need something to numb the pain. I need something to help me forget, if only for a few hours.

My cellphone, lying face down on my nightstand, suddenly vibrates interrupting the slicing silence. I flip it over. It's Gee.

I rush to pick up, clearing my throat before I do so. "Hey."

"Hey Mikes. What's up?" he wonders. His voice is so soothing. Like music to my ears. He makes my racing heart beat slow down a little. I close my eyes and hold on to the safeness.

It's such a simple question, yet I'm not sure what to answer. Do I say that I need help, that I'm drowning in self-pity and that I need him to pull me out of the quicksand? Do I tell him about the situation with Frank? What about the drugs? Do I tell him about those? No. I've already caused him enough pain. I need to do this on my own.

"Nothing." I reply, ignoring the tears that well up in my eyes. I try to force a smile and sound happy. For him. I hate lying to him. I hate not being able to tell him [i]everything[/i]. But he needs this. I quickly change the subject, uncomfortable with the way the focus is on me. "How are things over there?"

"Oh. Pretty good, actually. I love the classes here, and I've met so many cool people. Well, I guess you know that already… Yeah, but everything is really good." He sounds so happy. I [i]should[/i] be happy for him.

"oh… good." I don't really [i]feel[/i] anything.

"Are you sure you're okay? You sound distant…" Gerard knows me, and he knows when something is up.

His curiosity stresses me. What do I say? "Yeah. I'm fine… just a little busy. Hey Gee, It's always nice hearing your voice and I really miss you, but I have to go."

There is a long pause, an awkward silence. "Oh… Ok? Love you, bye."

I understand his confusion. I'm never the one who has to go. I always want to talk for hours on end. I never have anywhere to be, and I definitely never have anything to hide.

My heart breaks as I hang up. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I can't be fixed, can't be alright again… If not for me, for you, Gee. I don't ever want to let you down, and i'm afraid that's what I'll be doing if I tell you what I'm really going through. I want to be ok, for you.

There is so much left unsaid. So much I wish I could tell him, but can't. He needs to be happy now. The darkness and loneliness of the night may cover me completely, like a blanket hiding me from the light, struggling to keep me down, but I won't let it get him.

And as for Frank, I'm sorry I'm not good enough, I really am, but you will talk to me. I'm not giving up that easily.


	8. Chapter 8

Teenagers chapter8

"Hey Frank. Why won't you fucking call me back? You know I'm too scared to confront you at school! I don't deserve this." My voice shakes as tears of anger soak my eyes. "I told you…. Everything… I've been through so much, and still you treat me like a worthless piece of shit! Did I say something? Did I do something? I'm sorry if I did." My face is burning now. I pause, not quite sure of what to say next. One thing that I [i]am[/i] sure of is that I shouldn't be apologizing. "You know what? Never mind…" I slam the phone shut, and throw it, using all my might. It collides with the wall, but it does not break. It never breaks.

The rain violently falls outside of the cold bedroom walls, drops slam onto my slanted ceiling window. Besides this soothing sound, the silence makes it difficult not to overthink things. I always overthink things. I'm a natural over thinker. That's what I do. I ruin my own life by thinking too much, and there's nothing I can do about it. It makes me hysterical. I get so sick of my own mind sometimes.

I'm home alone, as usual. I'm staying in my room, though. I always stay in my room. My room is the closest thing I've got to safety; the closest thing I've got to a refuge.

Mom and Dad hate me. They are as repulsed by me as I am by them. They hate me for running away, but not nearly as much as they hate me for being gay. We don't really talk anymore. Whenever we do it turns into an argument. It's not really worth it. It's not worth the shouting and slamming doors.

If I could run away, I would. No second thought needed, I'd be out of here in the blink of an eye, and I'd never look back… but I'd have nowhere to go; nowhere to stay.

My train of thought is suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of my phone on the floor. I run over to pick it up, examining it for deep dents as I do so. There are no new ones that meet the eye. Good. I can't afford a new phone, and there's no chance in hell my parents would lend me the money.

Oh God. It's Frank. Has he heard all the awkward voicemails? Shit! I consider ignoring it, but come to the conclusion that I would like to hear what he has to say in his defense.

"Hey. Sorry about the voicemails…" My opening sentence is far from confident.

His voice is as soothing as always. "Listen, Mikey. I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't think. Oh god! Mikey, I'm an idiot!" I'm completely caught off guard.

"wha.. what?" I stammer, not quite able to proses what just happened. I was expecting fury, or embarrassment for kissing me.

"OH [i]GOD[/i]!" He's actually sounds [i]upset[/i], regretful even. He sounds like he's sorry, and the best part is: it sounds sincere. "I'm so fucking stupid! Dammit!"

"Excuse me? Calm down Frank. Why the fuck didn't you answer me? I left you 7 fucking voicemails! 7! " My brain works as fast as it can to try to keep up with the pace of my emotions. I think I'm [i]angry[/i]. I never have the courage to be angry at someone, let alone to stand up to them. But the fury I feel today is far from the fury I've ever felt before. It might be because I care. I care about Frank; I care about his feelings towards me, and what he does to me.

"How dare you! How dare you not pick up for a week, you were nowhere to be found! Do you even understand how fucking scared and paranoid I was…. I… I…" I'm at a loss for words.

"I'm so fucking sorry! I swear! Shit! I've messed up! I've messed up big time… Like you said, you really don't deserve this…" Shit, he heard the voicemails. "…and I understand if you never forgive me, it's just that this was supposed to be a nice surprise…shit!"

Surprise? What surprise?

"What surprise?" I wonder.

He hesitates for a second. Not quite sure how to formulate it. "Well…. I've moved out..."

What!? "OH, you couldn't even stop by to say goodbye! I get it"

"No! You don't get it. I've moved [i]out[/i], not [i]away[/i]. I still live in Jersey. I just have my own apartment now." Oh, so he's calling just to rub it in; the fact that he's old enough to live on his own, where as I have to stay behind… I have to suffer. "I told my dad I was gay. Mikey, he fucking beat me! He fucking beat me to a pulp. It pushed me over the edge…" Oddly, he's sounds… exited. Like a light bulb just went off in his head, and he's seeing things brighter than he ever has. "I told him I loved you. He disowned me. He fucking disowned me!"

Wait… what!? Did he just say that he [i]loved[/i] me.

"I'm so fucking sorry. He ruined my phone in the fight, I just got a new one, and saw the messages. I've been really busy packing and moving my shit the past few days. Plus I had to go to the doctors and get a few stitches... I know it's no excuse, but.."

"Oh my God, Frank! Why didn't you tell me?" I feel horrible! Oh God! "I'm the fucking idiot, Frank! You have nothing to apologize for."

"Hey, can't we both be fucking idiots?" He jokes. "I was going to make it a surprise! A nice surprise. Well fuck that. I was going to invite you over, and you were going to be confused when I drove a different way home from school and..." He trails off. "Well fuck that, right?"

"Frank. It's fine, really." I really do feel fine about the situation. I can't believe he was planning something so sweet, and I fucking ruined it. I'm the one who should be apologizing!

"No, Mikey. It's not. I didn't even think about you're anxiety or trust issues. I completely forgot….." I'm pleasantly surprised by the fact that his use of the word "issues" does not hurt me. I actually feel [i]understood[/i]. He doesn't say it in a degrading way, rather more of a [i]we all have issues[/i] way.

"Forgive and forget, right." There's no use in arguing over who is more sorry. I just want to see him again.

"Really?" He sounds so grateful. It's flattering that he cares so much. I'm not used to it. "You wanna come over? I can pick you up if you'd like?" Tonight is a school night, but it's only six thirteen. I'd love to hold him in my arms again. I'd love to see the apartment as well.

"Sure. Could you hurry? Mom and dad will probably be home soon, and I'd like to be out of here by then…" I can't really imagine the expressions on their faces if I told them I was going to my boyfriend's house. Can I call Frank that, my boyfriend? Oh God! My dad's head might literally have exploded.

"Of course! My door is always open. Be right there."

I'm left feeling so much better than I have in a long time. Communicating really does help. Could things finally be looking up?


	9. Chapter 9

Teenagers chapter9

"Frank! Oh My God, Frank." He's standing on the other side of the road, leaning on his crappy, silver car. Dear God, have I missed him.

His face lights up like the fourth of July the second he lays eyes on me. My stomach stirs in excitement, and I can't help but stand there and smile like an idiot, as I jump up and down in place. A few tears of joy roll down my cheeks, but I quickly wipe them away with the sleeve of my black hoodie.

After all the things I've been through this past week it's amazing that things have come to this. This is perfection. I'd been planning and dreading a future without him, but now he's here. He's not leaving me. He might even love me.

I set off, sprinting in his direction. He welcomes me with open arms, pulling me close, in a warm, safe embrace. His strong arms hold me tightly and I hear a sigh of relief. It's like he's been holding his breath, expecting something to go wrong, but nothing has. I'll never let anything happen to him.

The sun has gone down, and out here, in the middle of the street, our actions speak louder than words. I tighten my weak grip around him, holding him, forcing him as close as our bodies will let us. I never want to let him go, ever. No one will ever tear him away from me; I might die if I'm on my own again.

If my parents ever saw us….. Oh God… How would they react? Would my dad beat me?

Frank seems to understand my train of thought. "I'll never let them hurt you, I promise." he says, quiet enough to be a whisper, but loud enough for me to hear. His breath is warm against my ear. "I'll never let them hurt us." These words put me at ease. They let my brain rest, if only a few seconds; because I know he means them. I know there is so much truth in them and that he's not leaving me.

Frank is a little bit shorter than me, a few inches that is. Gerard recons I still have another growth spurt in me though. He thinks I'm going to be taller than both him and Frank, and that's fine by me.

"Waddaya say to going home?" He says it like it's my home as well. No matter what, it'll probably feel like more of a home than the one we're standing in front of at the moment. [i]Mine[/i].

I can't focus on the road to Frankie's apartment when I'm sitting next to such an amazing being. I can't help but gaze, longingly at his perfect eyes, his mouth, his nose, the way his eyebrows curve so perfectly. He's concentrating so intensely at the road that he doesn't notice.

Everything about him is so beautiful. I just want to throw myself at him. I want to press my lips as hard as I can to his and I want to eliminate any space left between the two of us. I want to taste [i]him[/i] again. I want to kiss his neck and hear him moan and whimper. I want to tease him, and make him [i]want[/i] me. I just want to do so many bad things to him. Things that if you asked me a year ago, I'd never think I'd want to do to anyone.

The ride to his house is shorter than expected. It takes about 10 minutes or so. He pulls into the dark parking garage, and we get out of the car, sauntering up the old, narrow staircase that leads past the other apartments, ending up outside of the door to his small but nice loft.

On our way up we talk openly about our past week. He remembers to tell me that it was all worth it. This makes me smile. This means that [i]I'm[/i] worth it. [i]I'm[/i] worth getting in a big fist fight with your drunk of a father over. [i]I'm[/i] worth being verbally abused by your mother as well.

We stop in the middle of the stairs as he says this; I lean in and peck his cheek as I blush. He sends a comforting smile in my direction, and we climb on.

The loft is small. It's probably old as well, but it does feel like a [i]home[/i]. It's nice. It's nothing like Gerard's house, but it's nice. Really nice. Frank looks at me nervously the second we step through the door. "Waddaya think?" He lifts himself up onto his toes and rocks back down.

"It's really ni-" I don't get to finish my sentence before his tongue is in my mouth. Hungrily, he throws himself at me. We stumble around the apartment, lips never parting, tripping over furniture and pulling each other in. Eventually we make our way to the couch where we lay down. This is the best grand tour of the apartment I can possibly imagine.

I can feel every heaving breath in Frank's boney body as he lies on top of me, squishing me into the couch, pinning me down. My position is quite uncomfortable, seeing as my neck is at an unnatural angle, but I don't really care.

I pull myself towards him as far as I can, until we're skin tight, no air separating our bodies. Our lips move in sync, mirroring one and other's movements as our tongues explore each other's mouths. Frank violently grabs my arms in his hands, making it impossible for me to move them. He starts to carefully bite my lower lip and moves on to my neck playfully nipping at it. I yelp in excitement. He quickly removes his shirt, throwing it to the other end of the room; He then, without a minute to spare, tugs mine over my head as well. I've never seen him so desperate.

He sits up, mischievous smile spread across his face. "I'm gonna make you beg." His eyes glimmer with excitement, and my stomach tickles. He's such a fucking tease.

He then leans down, placing his moist lips on my jawline. He softly kisses my neck and slowly makes his way down to my chest where he brushes his fingers along my ribs, sending shivers down my spine. His lip ring is cold against my skin. It feels damn good. He giggles teasingly as I feel my pants awkwardly tighten.

"Frank.." I whimper. He then brings his hand to my crotch, where he rubs harshly. I cringe at a soothing kind of pain that forms. With my free hand, I take a hold of his hair, and greedily force his lips to mine once again. He frees my other hand and traces his fingers up and down my whole body making me moan into his mouth. He starts to rub faster. "Fuck Frank!" I cry.

He suddenly gets up. "Wow. Look at the time!" He exclaims, looking at a clock on the wall. I loathe that clock at the moment. I want to stomp on it and crush it to bits. Is he seriously just going to leave me like this? Stiff and starving for him?

"Frank, it's only eleven. Please!" I beg, wearing the best puppy-dog expression I can manage.

"No, we've got school tomorrow. I've gotta get you home." He glances teasingly at me through his shabby black hair that has now fallen in front of his face. I plead, but eventually he convinces me that it's time to go. Time really flies when you're having fun.


	10. Chapter 10

Teenagers chapter10

I swing the car door open and reluctantly get out, suddenly noticing that my pants still are embarrassingly tight in a specific region. I cross my legs a little, trying to hide it from Frank, but just end up looking like I have to pee.

Frank leans across the passenger seat, peeks out of the car and busts me. "Oh, wow." he laughs, completely full of himself. "Someone's exci-… I'm that exciting, huh?" His brows furrow as he sends me an idiotic, self-righteous smile.

"Shut up." I reply, looking down at my black shoes, not quite sure of what to say or do. I shift my weight. My cheeks are burning by now and are probably a dark shade of pink. He definitely is _that exciting_.

My stomach does backflips as I see the empathetic expression that has taken over his face. He wrinkles his brow, looking apologetic.

"Hey, don't worry about it Mikes, I'm only teasing." he reassures. He seems to be teasing me a lot lately, in many different ways. I don't mind though. Honestly, I really, _really_ don't.

I don't want to go back home although I know that I have to. Not now. I really don't want Frank to leave either. I don't want to go back to _reality_. I'm scared that my depression and anxiety will come rushing back when he leaves, or that my parents will punish me for being out so late.

Luckily the house looks dark, and it seems like my parents have gone to bed. I bet they didn't even notice I was gone, they never do.

There's one problem avoided.

"I should get home and get to bed." Frank widely yawns, slowly pulling the car door shut behind me. "See you at school tomorrow." he yells. It's not a question. The engine coughs a few times before it kicks in for real.

"bye…" I say to myself as he hits the speed, racing off into the night.

My body unwillingly turns around, facing the house, slowly heading towards it. My mind is elsewhere. I sneak through the big, pitch-black rooms, tiptoe up the stairs and sprint down the last hallway to my bedroom where I leap into the comfort of my refuge. I carefully close the door, quickly removing my clothes and jump into bed, where I lay in silence. Left alone to my thoughts, wondering.

I wonder what Gerard is doing. Like right now. Is he in bed? Is he out partying? Part of me hopes he's missing me as much as I miss him, although that is extremely selfish. Maybe he's being creative. I sure hope so. I hope he's making something of himself. I hope that one day he'll get the credit he deserves. Because it's true; He does _deserve_ it. He is, and I can't stress this enough, truly amazing. He's a great brother and friend, and I'm sure he'll make a great artist as well. I just hope he doesn't forget me.

I wonder what Frank is doing. Is he home yet? Is he driving alone in his car? Does he enjoy the freedom of long car rides? Does he enjoy racing through the abandoned pitch blackness of the night, having no place to be? I know I do. I love the feeling of no weight on my shoulders. Having no place I _have_ to be, nothing I _must_ do. I hope he too feels that freedom.

Suddenly my mind jumps to another thought. This one is also about Frank. I think about his tempting glares, his seductiveness. I swear, when I'm around him, I can't control myself. I can't deny him. He's going to get what he wants no matter what. I think about his lip ring and the iciness to my skin. The way it made my insides jump.

The darkness of the night soon takes over, and I drift into a deep, comforting sleep.

***********

I'm broadly awoken by the irritable beeping of my alarm clock. Shit. Is it time to get up already? My head aches from last night, and as I roll of my bed I notice that I've got a severe case of "morning wood". This is quite unusual for me. I've never in my life been as excited as I was by Frank yesterday.

It's difficult to squeeze into my black skinnies, but I eventually manage. Enthusiastically I pull on the first tee I grab a hold of on my floor; which incidentally is my grey Misfits shirt. The misfits are Frank's favorite band; he knows that I like them too. Gerard introduced me to them, and may I say I am extremely grateful for that. He was introduced by frank.

I slouch into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of my groggy eyes. The morning sun shines through the window, blinding me for a few seconds and making my head feel like it might explode.

Looks like everyone's left for work already. I'm glad. Meeting my parents at this state would be quite humiliating. Meeting anyone at this state would be quite humiliating.

Birds chirp outside the thin walls as I prepare a hot cup of coffee-too-go and grab my book bag, flinging it over my shoulder. "Shut up" I whisper to myself, aggravated by the birds as I head out the door. Can't they just be quiet?

It's hot out. Not a summer kind of hot though. Fall is arriving. Leaves are falling and the air is not quite as moist, thank the lord for that. I could not stand another day of over 100 degrees and black skinnies and tees, but seeing as that's the only clothes I own, I'd have to. There's just something about shorts that makes me uncomfortable. I just don't like showing off my body, I mean what's so great about it. I'm skinny and pale; Lucky me. It's just one more thing to be bullied about.

********

The bell rings as I pace off in the direction of my next class, chemistry. I'm hoping Frank will be there and not cut class today because I really want to see him.

Sure enough, the second I open the door my gaze is met by his. He's sitting alone in the far right corner of the room, waving frantically for me to sit next to him. I can't help but giggle as I hurry over, throwing my bag onto the floor and flopping down into my chair.

"What? What's so funny? Are you-… you laughing at me?" There he goes, acting all butch again. It's hilarious as always. I think he's trying to be like a mafia boss of some sort because he speaks in a thick Italian accent, lifts his shoulders up and dramatically talks with his hands, making an expression of genuine confusion. Frank's quite the actor.

Suddenly he's serious. His eyes are tired and burst with beautiful shades of green and brown. They form a warm but piercing gaze. A gaze I don't want to escape. A gaze I'm perfectly content with.

He punches my shoulder and leans back in his chair, throwing his feet onto his desk and closing his eyes. He's so spontaneous. There's just something about his that I can't figure out; something that intrigues me.

I can't help but stare as his neck relaxes more and more. Dear God is he beautiful when he's sleeping.

Eventually I lay my head down on my desk with a loud thud, teacher rambling on in the background. Luckily she doesn't notice. I don't even know what Mrs. York is talking about anymore, so I decide to get some rest. I close my eyes and fade into a world of peace.

**********

"Mikey…. Mikes." Frank is leaning over me, shaking my shoulder. "The bell rang like 5 minutes ago."

"Shit." I've been drooling. I wipe the corner of my mouth with my bare arm, eyes slowly adjusting to the bright room. "Where- what…" Suddenly I remember where I am.

Frank looks more than amused. His big smile is contagious, and although my neck hurts like hell, I can't help but laugh at my confusion.

Lunch is next so we hurry off to the cafeteria. As Frank pulls me by the hand through the crowded hallways we can't help but get a couple of judging glares. A few of the jocks whistle mockingly and throw some sly comments at us. Frank decides to ignore them so I do as well. Why should I be hurt when he isn't?

The cafeteria lady smacks a blob of something that looks- but most definitely does not smell like mashed potatoes onto my plate. "Thanks." I grimace at the food given to me.

Frank is in front of me in line, and has gone to take a seat at an empty table. I quickly follow.

The way Frank shoves his food in his mouth is just about the cutest thing I've ever seen. He does not even have time to swallow between bites. He looks like a fucking hamster. I stare in amazement, picking at my own with my fork. I swear something on my plate just moved.

"I'm not going to steal you food." I joke. He sends me a short smile while he swallows, shoving another big bite of his burger into his mouth.

"Oh, I know. I just have something I want to show you afterwards, and we have to go before class so we don't get caught. We have math next. Do you really want to have math?" he asks. I need not answer that. " Now eat up" he teases, knowing that I hate cafeteria food.

Once Frank's done devouring his food he rushes out, me at his heels.

"Where are we going?" I wonder.

"You'll see soon enough."


	11. Chapter 11

Teenagers chapter11

The small room I'm lead into is on the third floor. It's dark. I've never seen anything like it.

The windows are nailed shut with only a few strands of light peeking through the old planks, displaying the dust flying around in the air. It is crowded by old desks, chairs and basically any school supply you can think of. It seems to be some kind of old storage room.

To my big surprise this is a part of the school and not from some old zombie horror film. The only things missing are screams and bloody hands breaking through the wooden plates concealing us from the outside world.

Frank smiles at me. "Pretty cool, huh?" He looks mighty impressed, lifting an eyebrow like he's expecting an answer.

I'm speechless. I mean it's awesome. It's more than awesome. It's fucking amazing, but why has he brought me here?

"Wow… I-I-eeh." I shrug at a loss of words. What do I even say? What do I do? The silence is getting uncomfortable so I shift my weight and peer up from my shoes at him.

His brown/greenish eyes glance playfully at me through the ear-length black strands of hair covering his face. I see a side of him I've never seen before. He seems hesitant, [i]unsure[/i] even. The way he's bending his neck and kicking the ground makes me melt. It's cute.

I break the silence, blurting out "Why did you bring me here?" I truly am wondering. Why? Why this room? Does it have some special meaning to him? Why is he acting so weird?

His piercing eyes stare at me for a couple of seconds as if he hasn't heard me but he soon reacts.

"I don't know… Gee and I used to go here when I needed to talk, when we cut class." He proclaims.

"Do you want to talk?" I ask, barely finishing my question before I'm cut off.

"No." he laughs, rubbing his neck.

I don't get it. Is there something I'm missing?

He takes a careful step towards me and does not move his gaze, not once from my lips.

"No one ever caught us. No one ever comes up here. Talking is the last thing on my mind right now…" His tongue soaks his chapped lips.

I start to understand what he's implying as he takes another step towards me. My teeth automatically sink into my bottom lip as I think about last night and I feel my stomach flip. I can't help but blush while he just stands there, looking at me. Studying me.

"I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with." he kindly explains, moving even closer. "I understand if you're not comfortable with all the people right downstairs and what not." He's very close now. So close that I can feel every breath of his on my face. He smells of coffee and cigarettes. It reminds me of Gerard.

I smile. I hear everything he's saying but can't concentrate on anything but the movement of his lips. I just stand there and stare for a moment, slowly soaking in what's going on and what's about to happen.

This is going to be on my terms. [i]He's[/i] going to beg for it. He's going to [i]want[/i] me.

My breath is shaky from excitement.

Ok, calm down Mikey. You can't let yourself get carried away, not this time. Make him want it as much as you did and then leave [i]him[/i] hanging. Make him feel the way you felt last night.

"So?" he's getting antsy now, impatient.

I lean in and kiss him a way I've never have before. I kiss him softly, tenderly. He fights it, trying to take control but I refuse him, grabbing his hands and shoving him to the only bare wall in the room, right across from the door. He hits it with a thud and something heavy behind us falls to the floor. None of us bother to see what it was. I feel his lips pull into a smile as I run my fingers through his hair.

He definitely wants it rough, but I won't give that to him yet. He needs to earn it.

We stand there for a couple of minutes, just kissing, him fighting me the whole time; trying to tug my shirt off and unzip my pants, whimpering when I don't let him. He keeps moving his hands down towards my crotch, but I move them back up to the wall and hold them there for a couple of seconds before he wiggles loose again and tries over. He's an animal.

Eventually, I give him what he wants. Not to take control but to get it rough. I determinedly push my body towards him, squeezing him to the wall. I feel his ribs expand and collapse as he heaves for air. I'm getting a bit too excited, but choose to ignore it and focus on him.

I run my hands up his shirt and gently trace his ribs. His whole being trembles beneath my fingertips as he shoves himself at me, grabbing a firm grip of my hair.

"Fuuuuck-" Ok, he's starting to take control. I love it but he'll never understand the way he makes me feel if I let him do this. What do I do? "-you…" I laugh into his mouth as I grab a firmer hold of his hair, practically tugging it.

I pull his shirt off and harshly claw my fingers up and down his chest, making him groan in pleasure.

I'm suddenly thrown off him as a loud bang sounds behind me.

"Shit!" he shouts at only a whisper.

I turn around and am met by the confused gaze of the janitor in the doorway with a broken chair in his hands. It falls to the floor as he just stands there, staring at us. My face heats up like the fires of hell. It takes some time for him to connect the dots, but he eventually seems to understand what's going on and his expression turns from bewildered to furious.

"What the hell do [i]you[/i] guys think you're doing?!" he yells, veins popping out of his wrinkly forehead. He's just as red faced as the rest of us.

I look to Frank for one of his smart ass answers, but he looks just as caught off guard as I probably do. Tears sting in the corners of my eyes and I'm on the verge of crying. I hate getting in trouble.

Frank glances at me quickly, wide eyed and trying painfully hard to hold back a smile, before grabbing his shirt in one hand and my hand in the other. Suddenly we're sprinting past the janitor, almost knocking him over, and out the door. Our loud footsteps are the only noises that echo through the abandoned corridors. I feel so free as Frank hauls me after him.

We break through the doors of this prison, rushing into the blinding light of this mildly warm day. Our feet keep pressing on until the school is far behind and they have no chance of catching us.

The road we are on is surrounded by widely set trees on either side. This is the road leading to the local park by the ocean. We're not far from grandma's old place, actually.

Here Frank bursts into laughter as he leans on my shoulder, wiping the sweat from his brow and completely out of breath. I sigh in relief as I struggle to catch mine. He falls to the concrete sidewalk howling with laughter, tears flowing from his hazel eyes.

"OH- MY- GOD!" he exclaims in-between breaths. I stare at him for a second before collapsing next to him, laughing uncontrollably.

"Fuhuhuck" I manage to spit out. "That was close!"

We lay on the sidewalk for several minutes, laughing hysterically before getting up and brushing off. Frank grabs my hand and we set off in no general direction, pacing.

We mess around, talking about everything going on in our heads as we got busted, and he does a perfect impersonation of the grumpy janitor when he first saw us, forcing an uncontrollable giggle from me.

I have been happier these past few weeks with Frank than I ever have been. I'm so grateful. He makes me forget. He makes me want to live again.

I shift my gaze from my shoes as we step onto some grass. "Thank you Frank."

He doesn't reply, so I look up to see what's going on. I'm caught off guard when see that we're standing in the front yard of Gerard's house. Shit. My feet just led me here. None of us had any clue of where we were going, and Frank looks just as shocked as I am. This was my old route home from school.

Frank looks sympathetically at me as tears well up in my eyes and as I notice the world around me start to spin.

All the feelings of Gee's departure catch up to me. It's worse than any physical pain anyone could ever cause me. I'm begging for someone to pull me away from this place, but on the other hand I never want to leave. I want to stay here forever.

The house is completely dark and empty. It's so cold. Looks like no one's bought it yet.

My knees give in but for a difference someone is there to catch me. [i]Frank[/i] is there to catch me.

He holds me as the air is forced out of my lungs and I clutch my chest. He holds me as unfamiliar screams escape my mouth and I feel my sanity disappear. He holds me as I feel myself become a complete stranger, incapable of any self-control. He holds me even tighter as I relive every moment in my head and as I plead and beg for him to come back. For Gerard to come back.

I collapse into Franks arms, sending him falling to the grass. He does not let go of me, not once as he strokes my back. It reminds me of the way Gee used to comfort me. It reminds me of the night he told me he was going. The way he always stayed strong. For me and for Frankie.

I clench my eyes shut, trying to escape this nightmare. Franks safe arms keep me here. This is not a dream, and I can't leave.

Through the tense sob-filled silence I hear a familiar tune my grandma used to hum to me when I couldn't get to sleep. Suddenly I'm swept into an extreme exhaustion and I drift into a warm sleep filled with memories and nostalgia.


	12. Chapter 12

Teenagers chapter12

Cold drops splash down outside the window, forming massive puddles that flood the streets which have now gone empty. I'm awoken by loud whooshes of wind and trees swaying violently from side to side. The sky is a dark shade of grey. It's almost the darkest I've ever seen it besides for nighttime. It's really coming down now, the rain I mean. A bright light flashes across the sunless sky and a deep rumble shakes the whole house. Windows sound as if they're about to shatter completely.

Sometimes when I get really depressed I go into a trance where I kind of disappear for a while. I mean my mind disappears, my consciousness. My eyes might be open, but I'm not seeing what's going on right in front of me, I'm not hearing any of it. Everything kind of turns into codes that I can't quite decipher. Nothing makes sense anymore. Other times I just faint. I fall asleep for a while. No one has managed to wake me up when I'm like this. I just have to do it on my own.

It takes some time for my brain to start up again but I quickly notice that I'm not at mom and dad's house. I'm home. It almost feels as if nothing has changed. But I know better. Everything has.

It's so vacant. The living room is dimly lit by the few candles placed on the empty floor surrounding me. I'm hurdled up against the wall next to the biggest window, a jacket placed on top of me.

My heart skips a beat as I hear the front door slam shut, just like it used to when I was the first one home. Could it be him? Soft footsteps echo through the emptiness and I savor every clicking of souls to the hard wood floors, closing my eyes and imagining what I'd do if it was Gee. What I'd say. It's not him though.

Frank enters from the hallway, dripping wet, jacket-less, one cup of hot coffee in each hand. His expression is more than apologetic.

"You're up…" He pauses. "I found some candles and matches in the kitchen cupboard, so I just grabbed them. After I'd lit them I figured you'd be out for a while so I walked to the nearest Starbucks." He shifts his weight, clearly unease of the situation. "I'm so sorry. I sat outside for as long as I could. First it started to drizzle, and that was fine, but then it just started raining more and more, and I needed to get you inside so you didn't get sick and…" He brushes strands of black hair away from his face and reveals his bloodshot eyes. He's been crying.

"It's fine, Frank." I try to mask the sadness in my voice.

"I carried you in. It was stupid, but I had to. Just don't shut down again, please. I was really worried." He starts to shake as he runs over and collapses next to me. "Fuck." He's trembling now. "Gee told me your meltdowns were bad but Jesus, Mikey!" Tears stream down his pale cheeks as he hands me one of the coffees. "I was so scared. I thought you were dead for god's sake!" His body quivers beneath my touch as I pull him close and run my fingers through his drenched hair. He's ice cold.

"It's okay." I whisper. "I'm okay." And to my big surprise: I [i]am[/i] okay. I don't need to be reassured or comforted. This is a different kind of sadness. It's not as hopeless. It's an emptiness still, a painful hollowness for sure, but there is hope. I know that as long as I have Frank I'll be okay.

His shaking seems to calm down after I've said these words. Since they are coming from me he seems to believe them. I do too.

We sit in silence for several minutes, but suddenly I remember the tune I was hearing before I had an "episode". Where was it coming from? Could it have been Frank?

"Was that you humming before… well..eeh…before I disappeared?" I wonder, flabbergasted by the fact that he knew the song. I always though granny had made it up.

"Yeah… Gerard used to hum that song to me when I needed comforting." That explains it.

"My granny used to hum it to us when we were younger and couldn't sleep, or when I'd had night terrors. I think she made it. She at least used to play it to us on the piano as well…" I inform him.

"He hummed it to me when I was going through withdrawal and when my brain tricked me into thinking that I wanted to die and when all I needed was to sleep. He'd hum it to me, and I'd sleep. Just sleep. For hours. It calmed me down then and it still does. It's beautiful." he sighs.

He's right. It's one of those tunes that you listen too, and it gives you goose bumps and makes you feel like you're the happiest person on the planet, but also it breaks and twists your heart. It makes you depressed and you think you'll never be happy again. And it makes you want to cry because of all the emotions you're feeling at once.

The room falls silent once again. But it's a safe, warm silence. A silence filled with shared longing for shared friends. We hold onto each other, the only ones we have left. The room is so peaceful, so quiet and so forgiving.

It's starting to get even darker out, nighttime-dark that is, but it hasn't started clearing up just yet. And I thought that it couldn't get any darker than it already was, well, guess again. It's basically pitch-black out now, and you can't see anything but the occasional lightning flash, bringing the sky back to life. The streetlights are out as well.

"You're not going home tonight." Frankie orders, not caring to lift his head from my chest to look at me, having my complete cooperation.

"k." My answer is quick and simple and it makes Frank laugh.

"k. We have that settled then." he says.

"Let's see how long it takes for mom and dad to see that I'm missing." I add, trying to bring some comedy but Frank does not laugh.

"I wish I could steal you." He frowns. "You deserve a loving home. People who ask you where you're going when you're headed out and wonder when you'll be back. You deserve people who [i]care[/i]." his sniffles break my heart.

I'm speechless.

I can't argue with his statement. I do deserve parents who care, everyone does. But that's just not the cards I've been handed, and now that I have Frank, I can deal with that. I have to deal with that.

"S-steal me then." I stutter.

He laughs. "If only it was that easy."

In my mind it is that easy. Can't he just take me? No one will care. We can run away together. Running isn't always a bad thing.

"Let's run…" I think aloud.

"I'd love too, but we can't. I could be charged for stealing you, you know that? I'm eighteen, remember."

He sits up to look at me. The position we're in is, quite frankly, awkward. We're sitting right next to each other, leaning against the same wall, gazing into each other's eyes, practically breathing the same air.

"They'd never find us. We could disappear." I'm pleading now.

"Sorry, but I'll tell you what we can do…." he half smiles. "We can stay here tonight… We can stay here and if you're parents still haven't noticed that you're missing tomorrow, you can stay with me for a while. Just 'till they notice. They deserve that, and you deserve to get away."

I hug him. He knows I'd rather run. He knows I'd rather sprint the hell out of this shitty town and never look back, but like he said: my parents could charge him with kidnapping. So I'd rather be tortured here for another two years than have him locked up.

"Do you think I'll ever get out?" I wonder.

"Of course, Mikey. The second you turn 18 we'll run. I promise." There's another one of our long comfortable pause. Just breathing and taking each other in, really. "I really like you, Mikes." He leans back in, resting his head on my chest.

We lay against the wall in peace, listening to the sounds of the storm as we grow tired. Frank is the first one to close his struggling eyes. His breathing slows and deepens, and I assume he's fallen asleep.

God, am I lucky to have him! I would probably have offed myself by now if I hadn't met him. Depression is a deadly disease, clawing at you and breaking you down, until you just hate yourself more than anything. It makes you think that you [i]deserve[/i] to die, that it would be [i]better[/i] if you were gone, but the truth is: it's not better for anyone. You just disappear. Everything you've fought for is just gone, and there's no way back. When you're alive there's the chance that things will get better. [i]You[/i] have the chance to make them better. Once you're dead there's just [i]nothing[/i].

I close my eyes and let my brain wander, because I'm to awake to fall asleep.

It wanders to the nights Gerard and I spent here. The evenings we'd come home from school, completely exhausted, and Gerard would maturely make dinner as I just sat in the kitchen, watching. He never complained.

On my good days we'd blast music and air-guitar along to our favorite mixed CD as we jumped around on the furniture. We'd tip chairs and scrape our knees from miserably failing to slide on the laminated floors. Gerard has even ripped his slim-fits on several occasions. I'd just laugh at him.

On the other days we'd just talk. He'd tell me not to listen to what Jonny and the other airheads at school would say about me. He would tell me to keep my head high. He reminded me that things would "get better" on a daily basis, but I never once believed him. These evenings I'd go to bed early. Around 8 usually. I'd cry myself to sleep, and feel nothing but the void in my chest. Later on I'd wake up due to night terrors. Gee would let me sleep in his bed. He'd hold me and talk to me until I fell asleep, and he often wouldn't wake me the next morning. He used to say that it was more important for me to rest and have time to heal than it was to attend school every day. He understood that pushing me to go would only make it worse.

Eventually I'm drawn back to the real world by Frank who shifts his position and clutches onto my shirt. I find myself half smiling and more at peace with the fact that I can't go back in time than I ever have been.

I rest my head on top of Frank's, who's is now on my shoulder.

"I'm very fond of you Mr. Iero." I whisper. He half smiles in his sleep.

I close my eyes and let my brain wander to whatever it wants, unafraid of getting depressed, because I know that I won't be upset as long as I wake up next to Frank.


	13. Chapter 13

Teenagers chapter13

"Mikey. You need to get up. Mikey, you can't sleep all day!"

What? Where the fuck am I?

Confused I sit up and notice that I've fallen to the floor sometime during the night. I've drooled, and my back hurts like hell.

Frank is standing in front of me, ginning widely and bright eyed as ever.

"Fuck off." I murmur, my head a painful mess.

He just smiles at me, annoyingly happy for this time of day.

The room is so bright, but the sun is still pretty low in the sky. It can't be past eight AM.

Looks like the storm has really calmed down. Good. I don't think I could stay another night here. Too many memories. Too much pain, really. And it's too far to walk to Franks place unless the weathers nice.

I can't stay mad at him for too long and soon a half smile has glued itself to my face.

"Ready to go to school?" he wonders.

What? School? Dammit.

He laughs at the obvious disappointment I'm portraying, but hauls me off the ground into a hug.

"Hey," He whispers. "I'll be there."

I rest my head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, pulling in his scent and gathering motivation to go on with my day.

He pulls me closer, then lets go and sends me a compassionate smile. He takes a firm grip of my hand and we're out the door, leaving everything behind. It feels good: moving on. Leaving the rough weather behind and letting the sun take control for once.

Outside the sun is shining, like the big explosion in the light blue sky that it is. Birds are singing, and I feel like I've reached the happy ending of a cheesy rom-com.

Frank and I walk shamelessly hand in hand, down the main street and towards the school.

The school day was fine. I'm guessing the janitor was too embarrassed over what he saw yesterday to tell anybody about it. There was absolutely no talk about it at all and I didn't see the janitor once. Frank didn't ether. I'm guessing he's trying his best to avoid us. That's fine by me. It made being at school that much easier.

The way home was hot. I felt like I was being beaten up by the sun and the air was humid and created a "can't breathe" sensation. I was all sweaty, and it didn't help that we had to walk pretty damn far, whilst starving.

We mostly talked about food and what we were in the mood for. We talked about how the janitor never showed, and laughed empty stomached laughs. Frank put his arm around my shoulder when we'd come about half way. It made me feel safe and home again. It made me feel like he was proud of me and was showing me off to the world.

The second we got to Franks place I decided to take a cold shower. He showed me how to use it, and as the freezing liquid ran down my naked body, half of me was hoping that he'd join me. He didn't.

I'm currently sitting at the kitchen table talking to Frank as he cooks dinner.

It's easy to communicate in this apartment because the whole thing is pretty much one big room, except for the window-less bathroom and closet-sized bedroom. But seriously, there's only room for the king-sized bed and a small strip of floor on the right side of the bed, where you enter. From there you have to crawl onto the other side.

Dinner smells great. Frank is making pasta. Yum. Incidentally, that is one of my favorite dishes. He doesn't know, so I guess he just likes it as well.

As we eat Frank talks about his school day. Mouth full and no intention of swallowing before talking.

"Mark called me a faggot in gym." he laughs out loud, slamming his fist to the table.

He takes it so much better than I do. Honestly, comments like this still hurt but I try not to focus on that so I just brush it off.

"Oh my God!" I force a laugh. "Why!?"

I'm learning not to take these things personally. It takes time, but I'm trying. It's not like they know, not that that would change anything.

"Waddaya mean why? It's Mark. I've always been a little faggot in his eyes. We were in the locker-room and he seriously just slapped my ass and said: hey little faggot. And then left." He forces some more pasta into his already overfilled mouth.

"huh." I wonder what makes Mark and Jonny and the others feel like they have to mock us. Are they insecure? It sure seems like it. Someone who's truly confident does not need to beat others down to feel that way. It just kind of contradicts the fact that you're strong as a person and I don't get it. But then again there are lots of things that I don't get. I guess that's what makes me human.

After dinner we walk over to the couch. It's 08.53 and we have time for a movie before bed.

"So, which one?" Frank holds up two films, looking super enthusiastic. Both seem to be about zombies and there's just like gore everywhere. There are blood and guts all over the covers, and I don't really care which one we watch. I'm fine with gore, so I just point to the one that he seems most obsessed with. I just don't know how I'll concentrate on the movie when there is a perfect-in-every-way specimen on the couch next to me, perfectly willing to make out with me.

My foot taps uncontrollably as I wait for Frank to start the movie and fill the empty seat next to me on the couch.

The couch sinks a bit as he collapses onto it. He stares at the screen as the title flashes across the screen with dramatic screams in the background. I can stop looking at his glistening hazel eyes. He looks so excited, like a child on Christmas morning. He doesn't seem to notice that I'm staring, so I take this chance to soak it all in.

He likes me. Possibly even as much as I like him. This beautiful, outspoken, strong guy likes me.

His dark brown hair keeps falling in front of his eyes. Screams sound from the television, and he winces, his full lips pulling into a nervous smirk.

He looks over at me. "What?" he wonders.

"Nothing." I lean in and place my head on his shoulder and try to focus on the movie, but manage to sneak some glances at him every now and then. I then take his arm and pull up his sleeve, carefully caressing the pale-white scar that is a constant reminder of his challenging past.

He flinches slightly, but then smiles softly at me, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

Our gazes lock, seconds passing. A calm vibe of complete understanding between us as he leans in and kisses me.

He quickly switches the TV off, lips never parting from mine. He grabs my waist and I lift myself up, placing one leg on either side of his lap. He then forces me down, grinding himself against my crotch. Fuck, it feels good.

Looks like I'm not the only one who's hard tonight.

He aggressively puts both hands behind my head and forces himself on me as I bring my hands down to his zipper. I then clumsily get off him and he follows so quickly that I don't even get a full breath before his tongue is shoved into my mouth again.

Everything is just grinding, touching and heaving breaths as we stumble towards the bedroom. He turns off the lights as we close the door and fall onto the bed.


	14. Chapter 14

Teenagers chapter14

My arms are pinned to the mattress by Franks strong hands as he places one leg on either side of my chest. It gets difficult to breathe, but I'm not sure if it's the anticipation or the fact that Frank is literally sitting on my stomach.

"You're gonna get it." A mischievous smile spreads across his face as his hands let go of me and trace their way to my chest, where he grabs a hold of my shirt and kisses me as hard as physically possible. Our tongues play around for a while before moving on.

He struggles to button down my button up, letting out frustrated groans when he can't get it, but I help him and soon my shirt is ripped off and thrown to the other end of the tiny room.

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, flinging it off.

My shaky hands make their way to the waist band of his boxers and I let myself get as damn exited as I want, because this is fucking happening.

I start unzipping his pants, as mine have gotten way to tight and are starting to hurt.

I grind myself up at him and whimper at the friction. My hands force his down to my zipper, but he laughs.

"Calm down, Mikey. We're just getting started." Voice smoother and more seductive than ever.

How fucking dare he? Can't he see that I need him? NOW! He's torturing me.

I'm fucking trembling now and so frustrated with him. I keep grabbing his hands and try to make him rub me, or at least do [i]something[/i] below the waist, but he won't. He just giggles his high pitch giggle and moves his hands back to my torso, running his nails up my heaving chest.

"Fuck, Frank." My voice resembles one of a whiny child in a toy store.

He just smiles into our kiss and then decides to tease me even more by removing his lips from mine and placing them at my jawbone. He then runs his tongue slowly all the way down my torso, letting me prepare myself, but stops at my bellybutton, eyes glistening with a playful anger. My hips buck up, begging him to continue, but his lips return to mine.

It feels as if my skinnies are about to burst, my cock hurting and throbbing like hell.

Eventually I just unzip my own pants, hips thrusting up, and rub myself on him as roughly as I possibly can. I can tell that he's really struggling to not just devour me right then and there, which is what annoys me. Why doesn't he just do it? Go for it Frank!

I decide to take control, because he's keeping it PG and being so evil about it. I push him off me and roll on top of him, forgetting that we're at the edge of the bed. We fall to the ground, but I decide to keep going without checking if everything's okay, because I know he likes it rough, and I know that he is. It's not a high bed.

Frank looks at me with great surprise and expresses a ponderous: huh.

"I thought you'd never take control." he smirks.

"Shut up." I pin him to the floor, kissing his chest repetitively and moving further and further down towards his jeans. I pull them down, but keep his boxers up. He's not getting it that easy.

I rub him gently, but then decide to quickly pull my own pants off, reviling my black boxer-briefs. I sit back down on top of him, the way he did me, and start rubbing myself instead. I don't quite know why I do this, but it just seems right. I need it more than he does.

He looks at me, twisted smile on his face.

"Oh, sh-shit." I moan. It feels good, the warmth of my hand through my boxers. But it's nothing compared to Frank.

He giggles a bit, but I can feel very well that he's hard, and I know that he's trying to act all cool, but I know he wants me. Maybe if I tease him enough he'll go for it.

I lean back and pretend that it feels so much better than it actually does.

"Ah, g-od. Fuck." I feel him tensing up beneath me, so I start whimpering and grinding myself on him.

Yes.

"You fucking tease. You. Fucking. Tease." He rips my hands from my boxers and I jump to my feet before he has the chance of pushing me to the floor, sprinting towards the door for no apparent reason. He stresses to his feet, chasing me the short distance, and rams me to it.

His left hand leans on the door on the side of my head, pinning me to it, while the other slips into my boxers. I feel myself lose control completely. The only thing I can think about is how [i]fucking[/i] good it feels when Frankie has a firm grip around my dick, playing with it. He covers my mouth with his hand as I scream in pleasure.

"Mikey, what will the neighbors think?" he breathes into my ear, knowing how good what he's doing feels. My knees are trembling. I'm throwing myself at him, thrusting and biting down on his hand.

"Shit, Mikey." He playfully bites the air in front of me as he moves closer and jerks faster. I feel my eyes squeeze shut as I try to hold back another scream. "You're a fucking animal."

He bites at my neck and whispers dirty things to me.

"You're so fucking big, Mikey"

"Scream Mikey, Scream."

I know that he is fucking aroused right now. That he gets exited from doing this. He's likes listening to me moan and whimper. He loves it.

"Frank." I moan, voice breaking and hardly managing to finish one word without screaming.

"That's right, Mikey. Say my fucking name." He's sweating. We're both sweating; and we're both out of breath.

My whole body tenses up as he rubs faster, my knees and arms trembling and I grab his hair, ripping at it, and force my tongue into his mouth letting out one final moan before it all ends and I collapse into his arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Teenagers chapter15

So mom called like three weeks ago. I told her where I was and that I didn't want to come home. She made me feel bad about it by saying like "Oh you ungrateful little bastard." And "You have no idea how much your father and I have suffered trying to hide the fact that you're gay. We've had to lie to all our friends about where you've been the past years." Oh, wow. Thanks for being ashamed of me.

Apparently everyone thinks I've been attending a boarding school, but I don't quite understand how mom's managed to trick her friends over the summer breaks. Guess I've just been at parties every time my parents have guests over or something. Wow. I'm imaginarily popular. But yeah, she let me stay.

Anyways, she makes it entirely my fault and the worst part is, when I lived with them, I believed the lies they'd tell me. I'd read into their stories and think that I was a worthless piece of shit, which Frank has shown me, I'm not. No one is. You just have to find your place.

The way Frank remembers to tell me [i]every[/i] night that he loves me. One night he forgot, and he ended up waking me up in the middle of the night and telling me because he said that he couldn't sleep if he hadn't. It's cute because it makes me think that I might finally have found someone who needs me as much as I need them. I like it.

A couple of days ago I got mad at him at school because he started [i]touching[/i] me in the hallway. No one was around, but I mean God, couldn't we at least hide in the broom-cupboard or something? It was so embarrassing because I kissed him and it evolved and I got a fucking boner and it wouldn't go away, so I had to enter the classroom with a stiffie.

Kids laughed, but Goddamn are they ignorant. I'm pretty sure no one has seriously considered the fact that Frank and I are together. I mean in a more than friends way that is. Well, except for the janitor. He fucking blushes whenever he walks past us, the poor guy.

Frank wants to be more daring and fool around at school because he loves the excitement. And fuck yeah would I like to do things to him in the boys' bathroom, but I'm not sure that I'm ready yet. You know, after the incident. I still beat myself up about it.

The past week has been great! Living with Frank is great. Just everything is great and I want to do things again, see things again. I want to [i]live[/i] again.

Although I love the nights when Frank does things to me in bed, my favorite nights are the ones where we just lay there and hold each other. When he holds me it feels like he's patching up the festered wounds in my chest.

Some nights I cry. Not because I'm sad, but not because I'm happy either. Just because things in that moment are perfect and I don't want it to ever end. But I know that I'm not fooling anyone. Crying won't stop time. But I just can't help it. It just happens, and Frank holds me tighter.

"So Mikes, you wanna go visit Gerard this weekend?"

My heart stops as well as my legs. Gerard. Shit. I miss that boy. I'd almost forgotten him.

I haven't talked to him in what seems like forever. I calculate that it's been about a month, and I didn't really tell him anything last time he called. Wow! He has absolutely no idea of what's going on in my life anymore.

"Wh-What?"

"C'mon. Let's surprise him." Frank nags.

I want to see him. I [i]really[/i], really do. But what if he doesn't want to see me? It's been [i]a month[/i]. Wouldn't he have called if he missed me? I don't want to be a pain in the ass and dig up all those emotions again.

I bring my hand up to my mouth, but Frank takes it instead because he knows that I start biting my nails when I get nervous. He holds it firmly and looks me straight in the eye, manipulative hazel, puppy-dog glare forcing its way into my soul.

"Fine." I don't focus as much on what I'm saying fine to as to the expression of an over-excited child that spreads across his face.

He jumps up and down in place, in the middle of the street-light lit road. We're on the way home from work. He works at a guitar store and I work at the bookstore right next door. We have just about the same schedule because we go to school and can only work after school hours. That's nice because then we can walk together. I ended an hour earlier than him today, so I stopped by and looked at guitars and waited. He appreciates that.

It's dark out and fall has pretty much taken over by now. The orange, yellow and red leaves have abandoned their trees and are starting to rot on the ground. There's that crisp smell and feeling in the air. I don't know why, but I love fall. Well, it's more like a love/hate thing. I love it, but I know that it's only getting darker before it gets lighter. The darkness confuses me. Seasons confuse me.

Frank leans in and pecks my cheek, jumping up on my back and almost causing a concussion as I lose my balance and fall to the concrete.

"What the fuck Frank." He's like a fucking child.

"Sorry." he laughs and rolls his eyes at me.

My top and jacket have slid up so part of my stomach is showing. Frank jumps to his feet, and runs over to me pushing me back to the ground, and sliding his hands up my shirt. I gasp at the coldness of them. He then retracts and sets off running full speed.

"Race you home!" His screams echo through the silent, empty neighborhood.

It all happens so fast that I just stay seated, baffled by that boy. What the fuck goes through his head when he does these things? I mean, don't get me wrong; I love it, he just confuses me.

I slowly get to my feet and follow him into the dark night, first pacing, then jogging and eventually sprinting.


	16. Chapter 16

Teenagers chapter16

The car ride to Gerard's apartment is long and kind of dull. I can't think about anything but seeing him again. I can't help but think about leaving him again either. And how unbearable it will be. It breaks me. It tears me to shreds.

Frank is driving; oddly enough Gerard told him where he would be moving in and not me. I try not to take that personally, but it's difficult. It seems like it was meant personally. It kind of feels like he hates me lately. He hasn't called, written and it doesn't seem like he wants a surprise visit from me either.

Un-touched nature sails by my cold window. I love the feeling of leaving everything behind, heading a place you've never been before. Especially when you get to do it with someone you love because then you have a safety net. Someone to fall back on if everything goes wrong. And someone who supports you.

Frank is half-smiling at the road, which, if I may add, sorely needs to be re-paved. His hazel eyes glisten with contentment. He seems happy. He seems at peace. But he also seems to be really looking forward to seeing an old friend again.

His hands tap the steering wheel to the rhythm of the crappy music on the radio. It's some lame-ass song about sex and drugs and money. What else would it be about? It's on the radio.

It annoys me that all you need to become famous these days is auto tune and to "know the right people". It doesn't come from the heart. It's not passion. It's bullshit. Degrading bullshit. Just plain shitty bullshit.

The car glides to a stop outside of a lonely gas station by the side of the road.

"I could sure go for a veggie-burger and like a coke." Frank has recently decided to stop eating meat. This must be hard for him since he used to eat so much of it. I don't eat it either when I'm around him to make it easier. He told me I didn't have to stop just because of him, but I want to support him as much as he has supported me, and that's the only way I know how.

"Do you want anything?" he wonders, climbing out of the car.

I don't really get hungry on car rides, but he persuades me to go in with him and take a look. That boy's trying to fatten me up, I swear.

The man behind the counter looks like a lumberjack of some sort. Shabby and not quite dressed to impress. There are stains on his plaid shirt of god knows what.

I tell him he doesn't have to, but Frank buys me a veggie-burger and coke as well. In-case I get hungry, he says. Of course I can't withstand the smell of it once I have it in my hands, so we end up taking a walk along the straight road ahead of us whilst eating, stretching our stiff legs after 3 hours of driving.

"So.. You looking forward to seeing him?" frank smiles, taking a monstrous bite of his burger.

Of course I am. Of course I miss him. It's just weird. I don't really know what I feel.

"Yeah..." I try to sound as truthful as possible. I mean, I'm not lying.

Frank doesn't quite believe me. "He probably has a good reason for not calling you know. You didn't call either."

A fucking good reason!? He better have one.

Why must he bring that up? Gerard knows that I just assume that people don't think I'm worth the bother when they don't call. Frank can't just come in here and pretend he knows everything.

Something inside of me snaps at the thought of Gee

"Shut the fuck up, Frank. You don't know a thing about us."

He lifts his hands in defense. "Hey I didn't mean to hit a nerve there Mikes. Sorry."

I know he's right. I could've called, but I didn't. "You know. Shit.. Yeah, sorry. I could've called."

The conversation ends there. He doesn't gloat or say: I told you so. He just puts his hand in my back pocket as we continue walking indecisively. I jump a bit. He laughs but knows that it doesn't take much more for me to get a boner, so I try to focus on something else then his warm hand just two thin layers from my skin. Shit.

"Can you stop."

He's teasing me now. Stroking me and squeezing my ass.

"Someone's pissed." he jokes, grabbing my hand, and spinning me around. He then kisses me. Putting both his hands in my back pockets and pressing him-self up against my body. It's not in a sexual way though, so I'm able to control myself.

He suddenly stops, looks me in the eyes, and says the most mood setting words possible.

"I gotta take a piss." He throws my hand back and walks toward the nearby forest.

"Thanks!" I scream. "Thanks for the info. Can I come along?" I tease.

He just lifts his hand in a "my pleasure" fashion. "That's messed up." He exclaims, not bothering to turn around.

I just stand at the side of the foggy road, waiting for him to come back. It doesn't take long.

We walk back to the car and continue our drive, several hours still ahead. I decide to close my eyes after a while of staring into the thick fog and getting bored with it. I usually never manage to fall asleep in cars no matter how tiered I am, but I guess I just feel so safe with Frank.

Anyways, time flies when you've drifted off, and I'm awoken as we pull into the parking-garage. It's gotten dark out and the clock on the radio says it's 11:30.

I am suddenly hit by a burst of energy and excitement. I haven't seen Gerard in like two months. Oh, god! I can't wait to hold him. To smell him. To hear his voice again. And not over the phone, because that's not clear and doesn't count. I can't wait to show him how happy I am. With Frank.

Frank can't stop smiling. "He has no idea we're here." he giggles. He's always loved surprising people. Catching them off guard. That's when you see people at their most honest state.

We get out of the car at the same time and Frankie locks up behind us, grabbing my hand and pulling me along towards the elevator.

The elevator can't move any slower. My feet are tapping as we reach level 1, level 2, level 3 and so on. Finally we're on level 9; we step out into the long carpeted hallway.

Frank walks in front of me, guiding me towards the right flat. I can tell how exited he is by how fast he's walking. He's practically running.

As we reach the right door both my hands and knees are trembling. I just want to hug him. Fling my arms around him and take him in. Like the good old days. But something is off. I don't know what. The smell maybe? It's familiar, but what is it? It's not strong.

Frank rings the doorbell. It's so quiet. Nothing. He's not answering. "Maybe he's not home."

Frank tries turning the knob. It's open.


	17. Chapter 17

Teenagers chapter17

"No. No, no, no, no. NO! Gerard! What the _fuck_ are you doing?"

Gerard is slumped over himself in the far end corner of the dark, closed curtained living room.

I'm frozen in the doorway. My legs glued to the floor. My desperate attempts to throw myself forward are confounded by the mind-numbing confusion.

He's rocking back and forth, gun in hand, pulled up to his mouth. Weeping and almost ready to pull the trigger. His whole body jumps when he hears me.

"I forgot to lock the door." He whispers, ice cold and emotionless. "I FORGOT TO LOCK THE _FUCKING_ DOOR?!" He's shouting now, clear despair in his voice, arms flailing. He's gone mad. Where's the Gee I used to know.

"Gerard, put the fucking gun down." A soft, supportive voice demands from behind me. Frank places his warm hand on my shoulder but I shrug it off. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me. I want to go somewhere quiet and think things over, only coming back when I've figured this out. What the _hell_ is going on?

"They won't go away. The voices." His voice is trembling. Cracking in desperation as he digs his hands into his unwashed hair and rocks more. "They won't fucking leave." He lifts the gun back to his mouth.

"No!" I whisper. I can't really do _anything_. I can't move, can't think, can't speak. I've gone blank, but not shut down just yet.

Frank comes to my rescue. "Gerard, stop." He's crying. "Please."

Gerard's sights jump to us. His eyes red and hostile. They soon soften as tears press on, and he ends up placing the gun on the floor next to him, but not letting go of it.

"I can't. I… I have to do this. They won't stop."

"Who won't stop?" I manage to press out. My emotions too strong to feel.

"The voices-"

"WHAT VOICES, GERARD!?" I guess I'm angry now.

"The voices. In my head." He exhales, digging his face into his curled up knees.

Suddenly I'm sprinting. Running over to him and throwing my arms around him. Suddenly I'm _feeling_ again. I'm sobbing, my heart aching.

He hugs back. Frantically. But he's not himself. He reeks of sweat and booze. He's been drinking heavily.

There's a used syringe on the floor next to him and I'm pretty sure it hasn't been used for medically needed medication.

My fingers run through his greasy strands of ebony hair as I press my forehead to his.

"Don't do this, please?" This time it's more of a question. I can't control him; only beg for him to listen. "Just please. Stop. You don't need to do this."

His clothes stink and it seems like he hasn't moved in days.

Frank has come closer now and is leaning on the back of the grey couch, observing us, his hazel eyes intensely awake.

"It's time to turn things around."

I get up and reach out my hand, offering as much support as I can give on this long, lonely road up ahead.

He takes it and is soon standing on his shaky legs, but shortly after collapses onto my shoulder. Frank runs over and helps me drag him over to the couch, where we lay him down.

Frank checks his pulse as I run over and open the curtains.

The city is alive really alive at this point. It's a Friday night and most kids my age are probably out partying whereas I just helped stopping my sky-high and drunk brother from committing suicide.

**********

Frank and I have had some time to talk things over and share every detail by the time Gerard wakes up. It's still dark out and Gerard is still stoned off his fucking mind, but he's able to talk in complete sentences, so that's a plus.

"Things went wrong. People weren't who they seemed and art wasn't what I'd thought it'd be." He explains, not waiting for us to even ask. "I was failing and teachers kept telling me I didn't have a chance." He covers his face. "My best friend here, a guy named Bert, told me I wouldn't make it and I should just give up. He gave me my first dose of heroin and became my dealer. He told me it helped him. Artistically and personally. I was desperate." He starts crying again. "I've been trying to quit the past couple of days because I got myself into some deep shit and ended up in the hospital. I can't quit, and the voices telling me I'm not good enough won't go away. The ones saying it's not worth it."

Frank kneels down next to the couch and hugs him. "You could've talked to us." He cries as gerard embraces him.

"That's the worst part. I know. I know I could've. And I should've, but I thought I could do it on my own, and when I couldn't I thought I was weak. I thought you guys deserved better. I didn't want to ruin your lives with the burden of mine."

Once we've started talking all thoughts spill out into the open.

"How could you think you'd be ruining our lives?! We love you so fucking much! Without you neither Mikey nor I would probably even be here anymore."

"You saved our lives." I chime in.

Gerard just stares at the door.

"No I didn't. You saved your own lives."

He's trembling, face scrunched up in pain and sweating. Withdrawal I'm guessing. Frank has experienced something similar with the pills and drugs he did, but not as intense.

He knows that we need to get Gee out of here. We need to get him out of his mind and out of these memories. We need to find something else to think about and, nonetheless, do.

"You are coming home with us. I live with Frank now, oh yeah, we're a thing." I rush; guiltily using the pain he's feeling to outweigh the anger at us for not telling him sooner.

"Shit. Shii-I need it. I need it now. I can't do this. I can't fucking do THIS!" Gerard bursts, crying.

It's so painful seeing him like this.

Frank knows what to do, he grabs Gee's arms and leads him out of the apartment, towards the car as I pack some of his necessities forcing them into suitcases and not forgetting his sketchbook filled with detailed drawings of suffering.


	18. Chapter 18

Teenagers chapter18

As I enter the living room, stumbling over my baggy, black and gray plaid pajama pants, I'm caught off guard. My heart beating 200bpm I wonder who the fuck is lounging on our couch, and why is he using my Mac-book? My hands rub the sleep out of my groggy eyes.

I'm tracing circles on my temples as I remember: Oh yeah. Gerard's living here now. I still haven't gotten used to it. Seriously, this scenario happens pretty much every morning and it's been about a month since he moved in. It's quite horrible being surprised every morning by someone you think is a burglar. It's pretty much a heart attack every morning.

Gerard turns around to see me as he speaks.

"How'd you sleep?" he wonders, smiling compassionately and brushing an ebony strand hair away from his pale face.

"Fine, I guess."

Gerard's been really moody lately, after he got clean and sober. One second he's the nicest person on the planet, but if you upset him… well it's not a pretty sight.

He's made getting sober seem easy lately. Frank thinks so too. I mean, he would have mood swings and be angry and depressed a lot, but he just takes it all so well. One day at a time. One hour at a time. One second at a time. He's kind of just surf the wave of needing the drugs rather than get exhausted from fighting it.

The first days were so hard though. He'd just lay there, quietly, on the couch, not talking to anyone and not eating. He'd cry silently and quiver. His eyes were always open. He was always awake, but he was completely blank. It seemed like he'd shut down, so you can imagine how happy we were once we got him moving and talking and eating again.

He doesn't do much still though. He'll sit on the couch most of the day. He goes for some walks, and Frank tries really hard to do stuff with him in his rare spare time so he gets out of the house a bit. It's hard seeing your brother give up on his dream and not succeed. It makes me doubt that I ever will.

"You?" I wonder.

"Not good. I had this nightmare where my brother and my best friend were dating." he jokes. He kids about that a lot, and it never seizes to make me giggle and blush and feel kind of shitty at the same time. I'm sure he doesn't mean it in a mean way though; it's just his way of dealing with it.

"Ha, ha." I smile as I walk over and slap his shoulder, leaning over the couch to see what he's up to on my Mac.

"I'm just writing." He explains, shutting the computer quickly. So quickly it seems suspicious.

"You were watching porn, weren't you?"

He bursts out in laughter.

"NO!"

I don't quite believe him.

"Prove it." I laugh.

"NO! Why should I?"

I'm getting frustrated now. I know it's none of my business and all, but I'm fucking curious and always have been.

"Just do it." I grab my computer out of his hands and run into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door.

"Fuck you, Mikey!" he yells, not bothering to get up because of how rapidly I move. "Please don't."

What he's been up to surprises me. He has actually just been writing, like he said. Nothing else, no porn. But I feel horrible once I realize what they say. They seem to be some sort of lyrics.

Well let's go back to the middle of the day that starts it all

I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling

And now the red ones make me fly and the blue ones help me fall

And I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling

And as the fragments of my skull begin to fall

Fall on your tongue like pixie dust just think happy thoughts

And we'll fly home, we'll fly home

You and I, I, we'll fly home, c'mon

My heart drops. There are no sounds coming from the living room only an aching silence.

Tears sting in my eyes. I'm a fucking idiot. He begged me not to look. But I mean these are amazing. What if he hates me now.

I swing the bathroom door open and run over to him, pulling him up from the couch and into an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, but Jesus, Gerard! These are amazing!"

He just brushes it off. "Well, you said that about my art as well, so…."

"I'm so sorry that didn't work out for you, Gee, but I promise: you've got some serious talent."

"Thanks." He pulls me inn and I know that he needs this right now. He needs to hear that he's not just a waste of space and that there's still hope for him. I know that it means allot to him.

Just then Frank walks inn.

"OOH! CAN I JOIN!?" His eyes widen as he sprints over and wraps his short arms around us.

Gerard and I laugh at his childishness.

"I can see why you love him, Mr. Way." Gerard mocks.

"Well, it's mostly his good looks." I joke.

Frank just holds us there for an awkward amount of time; I almost start thinking he's fallen asleep.

"So what are we hugging for?" he wonders.

"Well we were hugging because Gerard has no idea how talented he is…" I say

Gee chimes in with a weak "Hey, No!"

"What now?" Frankie rolls his eyes at the idea of Gerard being so gifted.

"Lyrics. He writes great lyrics."

Frank smiles. "Ahh, yes. The gift of music."

I eventually persuade Gerard into letting me read his lyrics to Frank. Franks mouth is currently hanging open in amazement. He walks over and hugs Gerard again, speechless.

"Ehm, could I get a copy of that and, well, maybe work on some music for it on good ol' Pansy?"

"You really think it's that good!?" He wonders, staring nervously at his shoes.

"YES!" Frank and I answer simultaneously.

Gerard's eyes glisten with excitement and possibly tears of joy. Hope is finally restored in his previously dull, exhausted expression. He's come back to life.


	19. Chapter 19

Teenagers chapter19

Frank's been spending an awful lot of time with Gerard lately. It's fine, well; in the beginning it was fine.

They're both so happy when they hang out together, and it helps Gee forget. Forget everything that recently happened and forget how challenging every breath can be.

Gee decided they should start a band together and they've been jamming nonstop since. They're good. Really good. I wish I was that good. But I'm not, and I spend most of my days on my own now. I read allot. I draw allot. I daydream [i]allot[/i].

I daydream about the things that I wish Frank would notice and the things I miss, like his arms and soft voice when he'd comfort me and hold me close. The times he wasn't trying to rip our clothes off as fast as possible only to be rejected by me because, correct me if I'm wrong, but getting off with Frank while Gerard is sleeping on the other side of the wall doesn't really seem morally right.

I daydream about what the future would be like if I was as talented as them and how bright everything would seem.

I feel really horrible for feeling the things that I feel because I have two people who love me so much. They just don't have time for me right now. And I guess that should be fine. If I was that talented I probably wouldn't have time for me either. I'm an idiot for expecting them to make time for me.

I've gone to bed and the guys are out jamming. They recently started renting a rehearsal room and are taking this extremely seriously. Frank hardly even goes to school anymore.

It's just past midnight. I went to bed hours ago, just about the time they went out. I'm starting to worry. Why aren't' they home yet? It's not like me worrying will help if they are in trouble, and I'm not saying they are, but I just can't help it.

I wonder what they are doing. I remember when Frank and I would lose ourselves in each other. We'd lose track of time just hanging out. What if they're having as much fun as Frank and I did. What if they're having [i]more[/i] fun. I think they are. I'm just a good old drag. I bet they only hang out with me because they feel bad and would rather just elope and peruse the band. Life on the road. Away from me.

Suddenly the room is spinning and I'm getting nauseous. Shit! I can't fucking breathe. Without noticing I've started crying, sobbing actually. My hands are shaking as they make their way to my throat, trying to force the air out. I'm heaving for air. Hyperventilating like a maniac. I'm losing consciousness, and the dark room is fading away from me. Everything is so distant and nothing seems real. I feel like I'm somewhere far away, looking at myself and seeing only how pathetic I am. I don't know why, but I lift my hand up in front of my eyes, looking at it, staring at it. Trying to focus on it and it all comes rushing back and I'm here again. Still trapped. Still in Franks apartment. Still alone.

I hear the front door shut quietly. At least they have the decency to try not to wake me.

Muted laughs and a-bit-to-loud whisper-screams sound from the living room. I hear a "shhh" and everything is silent but footsteps hurrying across the floor. I don't know why, but I don't say anything. I don't do anything. I don't tell them that I'm still awake, I don't say hi. I just lay here. Drowning. Not willing to swim or even try. I'm not even flinching because I've just been stabbed in the back and I'm numb. I can't feel it, and I don't care.

Maybe I should just go home. Maybe I should just go back to mom and dad, because being rejected by them would hurt less than this, and, as selfish as it is to admit, laying alone in the darkness all day would be less painful than seeing Frank and Gerard so happy together. Seeing how great their lives would be without me.

The thing that hurts the most is that I can't go back. I want to go back and tell myself that I'm better off on my own and if that doesn't work, tell myself not to take any second for granted because things will get bad again. Depression won't ever leave me and I think I can accept that now. I won't be ok. I won't be fine. I won't be normal.

Frank sneaks into bed, next to me. Thinking that I've fallen asleep he undresses, my back is turned so he can't see the tears soaking my pillow. His warm arms wrap around my bare chest and I lose myself in them for only a second.

His breath is warm to my ear.

"Mikey?" he whispers. "You asleep?"

I ignore him.

He starts pulling my pants down, thinking his hand around my dick will be a pleasant way to wake me, but I pull them back up. I don't want that. I don't want him touching me. I don't want to tell him how I feel. I don't want him to jerk me off while my brother is in the next room. I don't want him to always be so fucking aroused after being with Gerard.

I just want him to know. I want him to understand, like he used to. I used to not have to tell him anything and he knew. Just from the look in my eye or the fakeness of my smile.

"Feisty..." he giggles as he starts kissing the back of my neck.

"Fuck off." I jump to my feet, barely grabbing a coat as I sprint out of the apartment and into the night.

After hours of walking in the bitter darkness and focusing only on my thoughts any the smoke coming from my mouth, I've only gotten angrier. I bet they're both sound asleep while I'm pacing around, freezing my ass off. I bet they're not even slightly worried.

It's a school night and New Jersey is a crime ridden area but as much as these things worry me, they don't worry me [i]enough[/i] to turn around. I just keep walking, and eventually make my way to the shirk place. This is probably the safest place to be right now because Frank, Gerard and I are probably the only ones who know it exists, so I nuzzle my knobby knees up to my chest, and rest my head on them.

Next thing I know the sun is peeking through the frosty trees I'm facing. It is morning, but I don't know what time. My head hurts, but I know perfectly fine where I am and what's going on.

I get to my shaky feet and brush off the crispy, fall leaves that have stuck to my PJ-pants.

Might as well go to school. It's not like Frank will be there. He's probably out doing something with his life. Getting off at the thought of being famous.

Boy am I wrong, the second I open the main entrance to the high school I'm ambushed by hugs and involuntary kisses. I shove him off. Hurrying to class and hoping that he leaves. He doesn't. Boy is he persistent.

He follows me into my next class, trying to get me to talk.

"Tell me what I've done!"

I don't answer.

"Just tell me what I've FUCKING DONE!"

I still don't answer.

Eventually we're forced to leave class with a detention slip, but Frank drags me into the boy's bathroom, midst silent treatment, on the way to the principal's office.

He slams the door behind us and checks every bathroom stall, making sure that we're alone. He then aggressively rams me to the wall as I flinch at the expected pain. There is none. He knows his strength, and knows how to use it.

He stares into my eyes, melting the ice I'd frozen him out with with his warm, hazel glare.

"Tell me what I've done so I can change." There are tears surfacing in both of our eyes now.

My arm pulls back and as I feel an internal explosion of rage. I throw a punch and hit him right in the nose.

"HOW DARE YOU!" I hit him again. This time in the stomach. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! YOU- YOU- YOU FUCKING LEFT ME AND YOU DIDN'T LOOK BACK! DID YOU THINK ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! REALLY?! DID YOU!?"

He stumbles back, leaning on the sink as blood gushes out of his nose. There's a shooting pain forming in my hand but I can't focus on anything but the blood. Suddenly I realize what I've done.


	20. Chapter 20

Teenagers chapter20

"Shi-I'm sorr-" I'm cut off by a fist slamming into my jaw. It takes a couple of seconds to recover. To understand fully what's going on. And now comes the pain. Fuck. He's strong. My jaw feels out of place. Like he actually hit it out of socket.

"I'm following my goddamn dreams! You should be happy for me!"

My instincts react faster than my brain, and I'm punching back.

It turns into a real fight. A lot of real punches flung and it feels amazing. I'm finally releasing all this pressure that's built up.

At the same time all I can feel is anger. Uncontrollable anger. I can't stop hitting him. My voice is unrecognizable, throat scratched up on the inside from screaming my guts out. I haven't even noticed that I've been doing that.

"I AM HAPPY FOR YOU! But don't you dare think you can come home and just [i]play[/i] with me after not talking for weeks. All you want to do is to fuck and I need you! You're [i]NEVER[/i] there anymore!"

He stops hitting. I continue. I can see that I'm hurting him. I can see that he's cringing, buckling in on himself. I can't stop. I've lost it.

I keep hitting till his eyes are swollen and till his cheekbone gushing out blood. He takes every punch like a man till he's bending over the sink, spitting up blood.

My knuckles are killing me, but after seeing Frank take all that I'm oddly turned on. He just stood there, not complaining over how unfair I was being.

I sink down against the far end of the bathroom, watching Frank's reflection as it coughs and cringes in pain. Blood stains the white sink. He starts rubbing some of it away from his face till he's recognizable. A red drop falls onto my shirt, and suddenly I notice my own reflection.

My eyes are puffy from crying, but that's hardly noticeable compared to my split lip and eyebrow, gushing blood down my face.

Looks like Frank got in some good punches in the beginning after all.

As my eyes focus on him again his eyes are focusing on mine through the mirror. He looks so pissed off. No one says anything, but I get up off the floor and he takes two long, determined steps toward me, meeting me half way. I know exactly what he's thinking.

We don't even say anything, just grab each other. My lips collide with his and we're making out and all I can think about is how bad I just want to tear those clothes off him and fuck him. Like really fuck him.

I can taste the blood in his mouth and feel the swelling in his lips. It hurts when he kisses me too hard, but I like it. The pain turns me on. He groans in pain when I grab a lock of his hair and force him stumbling backwards till he's leaning on the sink.

"I'm so sorry." He breathes in-between kisses.

"Me too." I pull my shirt off, and he copies.

Now he's unbuttoning my black jeans and I, his.

My heart is pounding in my throat. I can't catch my breath. I'm so hard, so fucking hard. I don't even know if Frank has time to remove my pants.

He does it quickly, and suddenly we're both naked in the boy's bathroom, memorizing each other's bodies through movement.

My hands slip up and down his whole torso and I feel my heart race as he slips his callused fingertips over my nipples. Now he's tugging my hair and I'm groaning and squishing myself up against him. I'm pretty sure both of us have never been completely naked together before.

I'm trembling as I get down on my knees. I've never done this before. To be honest, its more awkward then I expected, having a dick in your mouth. I'm like trying to not make it awkward, but I can't exactly start a conversation. He's just smiling down at me. Not in a mean way. But he doesn't seem aroused either. He looks like he feels kind of sorry for me.

I'm trying different approaches, but getting no response but that smile. That pitiful smile. I'm like licking it and putting the tip in my mouth and groping. He has a boner, don't get me wrong, but he's not thrusting at me or whimpering or begging.

Eventually I put it back in my mouth and bob my head like they do in lame ass pornos, and his head throws back, almost crashing into the mirror. He grips the edge of the sink, knuckles turning pale white. I'm doing something right, so I keep doing it, going deeper and deeper each time. Then everything takes a turn for the worse when I go too deep and I gag on his goddamn cock. I jolt back. He's laughing and my face is redder than a fucking tomato.

"Shit. I'm sorry…" I shamefully giggle.

"N-Don't be." He answers, barely able to hold back the laughter. He's literally covering his mouth and I just stare at his bare feet. Trying to figure out what I can do.

I can't put that goddamn thing back in my mouth. Frank tries to convince me that it's okay, but I want to return the favor. I put his hands on my hips and lean into his ear.

"I want you inside of me." It's the cheesiest thing I could've said, but it seems like the right thing to say and it seems like he likes the idea. His eyes sparkle like polished diamonds.

"You sure?" His voice trembles. Suddenly he's really turned on again.

I get down on all fours in front of him. He does nothing, just leans on the sink. I turn around and his expression is a mixture of disappointment and amusement.

"I don't want to [i]fuck[/i] you Mikey…"

I get to my feet. Well this is embarrassing.

"…I want you. I want to see your face."

Now his hands are shaking as he shoves himself off the sink and stands up straight and looks me in the eyes. I forget everything. I forget that I choked on his dick a few seconds ago; I forget that I've never successfully jerked him off, and I forget that we're in the goddamn boy's bathroom. All I want is him. I want him in every way possible and I actually do want him inside of me.

I'm suddenly really nervous. He walks over to the door and locks it. I guess he doesn't want someone to barge in on us again. I guess he wants this to be as romantic as bathroom sex can be. We walk over to the wall, and he lifts me up so I'm straddling his hips, and pushes me against the wall so I stay there.

He starts kissing me. It's different though, not as hungry. It's a passionate kiss, a soft and slow kiss. His hands grab my face as he pulls his away.

"ready?" he breathes.

I'm so turned on, but I'm also so scared. Fuck yes I'm ready, but hell no, I'm not. I'm about to lose my virginity. I can't take this lightly. I'm ready as I'll ever be, I guess.

I nod. As lame as it sounds I'm actually choked up. My insides are stirring, I'm almost crying.

His hips thrust between my thighs and suddenly I feel him press in. I jolt in pain. It really hurts. I close my eyes, bite my lip and clench my hands in his hair.

"okay?" he breathes. I'm not. It's so dry and I can feel everything, but his voice is shaky, and I can tell he's enjoying it. The way his nails are digging into my ass cheeks I can tell that he wants it to go faster.

I nod, and he presses in further, tears swelling behind my eyelids. His eyes flutter shut and his head falls backwards as he slowly goes deeper and deeper until he's all the way in. he lets out a whimper, and starts moving a bit. Pulling out a bit. Nope. No. I can't do this.

I suddenly burst into tears and he jerks out quickly. I manage to hold in a screech of pain, but he can hear it in my throat.

"Shit Mikey! I'm sorry."

I can't do this right now. I get dressed as fast as I can. Frank keeps grabbing my arm and begging me to stay and talk it out. I can't. I can't talk about it. There's nothing to talk about. I can't do anything right.

Eventually he just swings me around, looks deep into my eyes and says "It's okay. I promise." And then lets me go.

I sprint the hell out of there.


	21. Chapter 21

Teenagers chapter21

I went home after a couple of hours. I just needed some air and to get away and think things through. I just needed some space.

I've thought things through and I have nothing to be ashamed of. Frank is happy, I'm happy. Do we really need anything else right now? Hell, Gerard is happy.

I don't want to ruin everything again, so I just have to accept myself. Everyone else does. Right now I just have to understand that I don't know where I'm headed or where I am in life, but I don't need to know. I'm young and I have so much yet to experience.

When people say: just be yourself and don't care what people think, it's not that easy. You can't just be yourself. Life isn't that easy. Nothing is that easy. You have to build yourself, you have to become yourself.

I'm starting to understand that I don't have to be perfect from square one. These people I've surrounded myself with love me for who I am. They don't like seeing me suffer the same way I don't like seeing them suffer.

I've been so trapped in my own head that I've made different rules for myself than for everyone else. I'm done with that. I love Frank no matter what, and I'm pretty sure he loves me no matter what. He doesn't need to be perfect. All he needs to be is himself. The good outweighs the bad.

If he didn't mean what he said about loving me he would've left a long time ago, and he's still here, so that must count for something.

It's thanksgiving and instead of thinking about all the things I could've done better or things that should have gone differently, for the first time in a long time I can actually find things I'm thankful for.

First thing being that I didn't kill myself. I stayed alive. I stayed alive and as much as I despised it when people used to say that things would get better, they did, those people were right even though they never experienced exactly what I did, and never will.

I'm also thankful for Frank. A few months ago I would have said that I was thankful that he saved my life and that the only reason I'm still alive is him, but now I'll say that I'm thankful that I was brave enough to love and that he loved me back.

I'm thankful that he's never done anything with the intention of hurting me. I'm thankful that Gerard is alive and that we made it in time. I'm thankful that he's been so strong and made it through everything with flying colors even though we never doubted him in the first place.

Gerard and I decided that we were strong enough to go visit Elena, our grandmother, at the cemetery. We've bought some flowers to place there, and I just wish she was here to see how well we're doing, and I wish I could have properly thanked her for everything she ever did for us. It couldn't have been easy, cutting off your child to take care of your grandkids.

I'm thankful that, although the first years of my life were messed up, things change. I'm thankful for having had the chance to know Nan as well as I did and that I got the chance to live with her as long as it lasted.

I like to think that in some way or form she can still see us. Death is too much for a simple human mind to understand, and I don't understand how someone can just disappear completely. If I believed in God I think she'd be up there right next to him, looking down at us and smiling.

If I knew her correctly I think she'd tell us "I told you things would work out." And then hug us. I think she'd probably be crying because of how happy she was. She was emotional.

As we get out of the car I feel kind of sick. I haven't been here since the funeral. I'm scared. So fucking scared. I don't want it all to happen again.

Gerard is walking three steps in front of me carrying the white flowers, and as we enter the graveyard I look up from my shoes and over at him and all I see are his black clothes.

Everything is the same. The church's dull grey bricks are the same. The cloudy sky is the same, the wind. The gloomy looking trees and dead grass is the same. My insides feel the same. I never got closure. I never got to say goodbye.

My legs are shaking, and the lump in my throat is growing. Tears roll down my cheeks as I stop. I can't move forward. I'm stuck. The only thing missing is her. Her coffin and her body, it's not here. But in some way I feel like she is.

I see it all. I see Gerard and me on the one side of the coffin and mom and dad on the other along with some other people we didn't know too well. I see their tears. I didn't know they cared about her till then. I see hopelessness and pain.

Gerard notices that I've stopped walking and turns around. He too looks crushed. He drops the flowers and rushes over, embracing me. I can't move. My eyes are stuck on her gravestone. I'm sick. My winter jacket isn't helping and I'm freezing and I feel like throwing up. My scarf is suffocating me, I try loosening it, but that doesn't help. Gerard just holds me.

"Mikey, it's okay. I feel it too. You're okay." He whispers. He keeps reminding me that I'm okay, that I'm here, but I still feel my surroundings slip away and I feel like I'm flying. "You're here. You're okay." It's like he's speaking on the other side of a wall. I can't hear him clearly, it sounds muffled. The world is spinning quicker and quicker. I see his lips move but I can't make out any words. His eyes are worried, but not like they used to be, I guess he knows I'll be fine now. I'm stronger now.

Eventually I just let it happen because I know that it will and I'm too exhausted to put up a fight. Everything goes black and the past flashes before me. Our last thanksgiving before she passed away. She'd made a real thanksgiving dinner. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn and even pumpkin pie for dessert. It took like two days.

We were going around the table giving thanks even though it was only me, her and Gerard, and she said she was thankful for us. She said she was thankful for getting the opportunity to help raise such wonderful boys, that we were a blessing.

I remember that made me a little angry because I didn't feel wonderful at all. I didn't feel like a blessing, a curse maybe, but not a blessing. I didn't say anything though. Gerard thanked for friends and family. All I could bring myself to say was "Thanks for letting me live through this evening. We're all going to die someday, but I'm glad you haven't killed us yet." Keep in mind that I was depressed and suicidal, but way to bring the mood down.

My hallucinations are put to a stop when I'm suddenly conscious of the fact that Gerard's voice isn't a part of it. "Mikey." He whispers. I open my eyes and to my big surprise I'm still standing upright. Gerard's arms have been supporting me the whole time I was out. It couldn't have been too long then.

"Come on. We have to do this. We owe it to her."

I nod and he lets me put my arm around his shoulders. He supports me as my shaky legs struggle to move forward.

Eventually we're standing in front of her. A cold wind blows through the naked trees and leaves that have fallen to the ground lift up for a couple of seconds fly a couple of feet before landing safely once more. The light drizzle camouflages the silent tears falling from our eyes. Gerard lays the flowers down in front of the rock that's left in her memory. It reads "In loving memory of Elena" and below that "May her generous spirit live on forever."

"You saved us." he expresses although the cemetery is abandoned. There's no one there to hear it. But we can always hope. Hope that she's here somehow.

I lay a hand on his shoulder and say to her what I should have said back then. "I'm thankful for the hope you gave us and I'm forever in your debt. You were one of the strongest, most beautiful people I've ever had the privilege of meeting and I wish you were here. I Miss you, I love you, and thank you."

Then we're silent. All I can hear is the soft wind and drizzle and Gerard's snuffling next to me. After a while we turn to each other and I hug him. We're both sobbing. We're both vulnerable and in pain, but in some obscure way; there's beauty in the pain.

We're both shaking in each other's arms for a couple of long, quiet minutes. We feel each other's pain. We are not alone.

Then we turn away and leave even though we feel a pull in her direction. We don't want to leave, but it's our duty to stay happy. For her. She wouldn't have wanted us to stand by her grave and mourn all of thanksgiving. So that's why we have to go home. We have to go home to Frank; to our family. Today we can pretend to be some weird type of family. We can all pretend to be whole together.

The whole car ride home is silent. Gerard focuses on the road with tearstains all the way down his cheeks.

I focus on the rain landing on the windshield, trying not to think at all because I'll just start crying.

Eventually we are home and Gee turns the engine off. We sit in the car gathering the energy we need to walk up those steps and be happy again.

I turn to Gerard. "Thank you. I needed that. Even though it hurt like hell." The tears are back now.

"Thank you for saying what you said there. I know it's been difficult and thank you for staying alive. Thank you for helping me as well. I needed you, and you were right there, right away. I believe that part of Elena lived on through everyone she ever had an impact on…and…" Now he's sobbing. I don't really think that he believes what he's saying about living on, but I think he's trying to and I think he really wants to. "…and I can see that she's making sure we're okay. In some way I think she's watching over us."

He leans over the gearbox and hugs me. "I love you. You're okay."

We dry our tears away and start walking toward the stairs to the apartment thinking that Frank's been at work all day. From the second we step out of the parking garage and into the stairway you can smell all the thanksgiving dinners being cooked. Gee kind of looks at me and widens his eyes signaling how good it smells.

As we reach the top floor we're surprised that it smells even stronger outside of our door. Gerard unlocks the door and we're met by an ecstatic Frank in an apron. "Happy thanksgiving!" he yells.

I swear, butterflies and rainbows would explode out of him if they could, he is that happy. He hugs both of us and we're speechless.

"I'm making a real thanksgiving dinner." He comes back to me and gives me a long smooch like a wife would give a husband in one of those stereotypical old movies.

"EEEEWW!" Gerard jokes. "Save it for the bedroom you fucked up kids."

"I just wanted to thank you guys for helping me realize what a shitty family I had and get the courage to stand up to my dad. I love you guys. You're more of a family I've ever had."

We help him set the table as we blast Smashing Pumpkins because it's the only music we can think of that has anything to do with fall even though it's only the band name. We dance around like we're all okay, because right now, we are. We heal each other. Tonight we belong to each other. We're a happy family.

As we eat the feast that has been prepared for us we talk about all the great things in store for us. The turkey is actually tofu turkey, but I can't taste the difference. We talk about our dreams of getting out of here and our dreams of being happy. I don't think any of us have ever laughed as much as we have this evening.

After we've eaten up all the food and pumpkin pie we move over to the couch, where Frank and Gee play some of their material for me. They've gotten great! They really have.

Eventually we're all just laying around on the couches laughing at everything and nothing. Gerard is taking up the one couch where as I have my head supported on Franks hip, him being sideways. He's massaging my scalp.

We're just laughing because of each other and how unlikely any of this would have seemed just a half year ago. How all of us at one point have been really messed up and how it's so weird that things have a tendency to work out.

"How the hell did any of this even happen!?" Frank exclaims at 12.01 am after a long silence. We all burst into laughter. We are so fucking messed up, but together we can forget. We can survive. We are okay.


	22. Chapter 22

Teenagers chapter22

"Hey…" A familiar whisper chimes into my dream world. "Hey, Mikey!" His voice tickles the back of my neck and his hand is gently placed on my hip. I'm laid sideways in our soft bed, drooling on my pillow.

My eyes open slowly to see him impatiently leaned over me, smiling even more than usual. His eyes are about to pop out, he's staring so intensely. I can't help but giggle as I'm met by a peck that turns into a real smooch and him lying on top of me as I squeeze him. This is such a great way to wake up.

"What's up, babe?" I wonder. It's still dark out and it feels like I just went to bed so I don't understand what he's waking me up for, but I don't really mind too much. I'm always able to fall right back to sleep when he's next to me. I feel so safe.

With the enthusiasm of an 8 year old child he replies "It's snowing!" hugging me extra tightly. "Come on. You got to see!" He's such a kid when it comes to stuff like this. It's like he thinks that I don't believe him or that it'll disappear in the morning or something. I have to see it right now. It's great.

He pulls me by the arm out of the bedroom and into the living room. We have to tip-toe because Gerard is sleeping on the couch.

There's a big window into our apartment that stretches around a corner and onto the other wall, from floor to ceiling. We peek around the curtains to see that Frank was absolutely right. It is snowing. The snow has started settling, like a thin carpet of white on the midnight streets and sidewalks. You can see how much it's coming down in the light cast by the tall wooden streetlights. The roads have been completely abandoned. It feels as if Frank and I are completely alone in this world. It's so peaceful and quiet.

I'd started to get really sick of that depressing fall weather. You know, when it's too cold for normal jackets but to warm for snow, so you can't quite wear a winter jacket because it's raining all the time. This is so relieving and amazing. It truly looks magic. Everything is perfect. Gerard's heavy, calm breathing, Frank's smile, my arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind.

"Why are you up at this hour, anyway?" I wonder. My voice breaks and I clear my throat. It's not too late, only 01.27 am, but I'm curious.

"I was working on a new melody for some lyrics Gee thought of." he whispers in reply.

"Ahh, what's it ca-"

He interrupts me, knowing what I'm going to ask. It's always my first question when they're writing a song. His answer is brief and suspicious though.

"I think it's going to be called Early Sunsets Over Monroeville." he smiles.

"Cool."

We stand by the window in complete silence, admiring how beautiful this world can be, for what seems like an eternity. I'm tearing up. My hands slip down so I'm holding around his waist instead and I rest my head on his shoulder.

Everything is so fucking perfect in this moment that it makes me sad that it has to end sometime. I just want to live like this for the rest of my life. Some tears escape my eyes and drip onto Frank's shirt. He turns around in my arms.

His back is arched as he stretches up onto his toes and kisses me. He lays his hands on my cheeks and kisses me so softly. It feels just like some alternate universe that I couldn't even have dreamt about, therefore it must be real.

Gerard's breathing has turned into quiet snore. No one else is feeling my exact feelings at this moment. I'm alone. Completely alone. In a nice way, though.

I brush a lock of Frank's hair away from his face so I can see his beautiful hazel eyes. He smirks.

"I love you." he says, and I lean right back in and kiss him again.

"I love you too."

My hand embraces Franks and we stand there and stair till we're crying at how beautiful it is. It's amazing because anyone else would think we were crazy for crying so easily, but since we're both so introverted and understand each other, its fine. It's kind of like we're just on the same wavelength all the time. I swear no one understands each other the way we do.

Frank breaks the silence, wiping some tears from his cheek with his hoodie sleeve. "Come-on, let's go to bed." His smile from the excitement of snow has disappeared, but he is not sad. He looks happy, just not in the smiley way. He pulls me back to the bedroom.

I lie down and watch him as he changes into his PJs. My eyes wander to his bare chest, as he comes over and wraps his warm arms around me. He seems exhausted, but I'm not sure I can fall asleep just yet.

His pale body disappears into the dark as he turns the light off. All I can see are his outlines. I decide to go for it. He's already closed his eyes, but I surprise him by softly rubbing his boxers and leaning over him.

A silent whisper sounds. "Ooh. That's what you want." Even though I can't see him I can tell that he's smiling by the tone of his voice.

A warmth spreads throughout my whole body as I realize that he's going along with it. His short fingernails latch onto my back and I feel them slowly digging into my skin. He flips me over so he's on top, as usual. He's always on top.

I just let him do whatever he pleases, because I know that I will be pleasured eventually. I feel something cold wrap around my wrists. There's a metal buckle at the end. It's a belt. He tightens it so my arms are bound behind my back and I can't even move them if I wanted to.

He doesn't say a thing, but sits on top of me with one leg on each side and something warm, soft and wet touches my chin and makes its way down to my PJ-pants, which are quickly yanked down. It feels like his tongue. Holy fuck. I feel his mouth around my dick and I'm trying not to rip all of his hair out. I try not to scream as he bobs up and down under the covers. I hear them moving.

He has a firm grip of my ass and his callused fingertips are digging into it. I'm going to have bruises there tomorrow. His warmth disappears for a while and I'm really confused. Are we done? I'm not, that's for sure. But there it is again. It's softer this time; it's only his breath now. Making its way back up my torso, I feel it every time it catches. He meets my lips again and we kiss for a while. Slowly but lustfully.

I fight the binds around my wrists, because all I want is to hold him and touch him, but I can't and it's making me angry. Eventually I just wrap my legs around him so our groins are rubbing up against each other. He lifts himself up a bit to reposition and I use the opportunity to put my legs on his shoulders. I'm quite flexible.

He laughs and pushes himself back up so he's kissing me again, but my ankles are still on his shoulders so I can feel it stretching. It fucking hurts.

"Ow. Frank stop." But he thinks I'm joking, and to be honest, I don't actually want him to stop. I don't know. I kind of like pain. I like it rough.

He leans in harder so our sweaty bodies are touching completely. I feel something move inside of me and suddenly I notice that he has two fingers up my ass. I'm squirming because it's pretty uncomfortable, but Frank pushes them in further and moves them faster, and I get used to it. It feels really good actually. Like, [i]really[/i] good.

Several moans escape my mouth, but he silences me by stuffing his tongue down my throat. His teeth dig into my bottom lip. My hips are buckling up at him and every time they do I feel his breath catch in my mouth and every time he bites harder. I can taste blood now. I'm automatically riding his fingers and pushing down on them. I want them to go deeper than possible. My back arches and he uses his free hand to jerk his own cock. He's really getting off on this.

"Do it harder." I whine. "Please."

He just sighs. I can feel his body shake. Sweat is dripping onto me. He disappears for a second and I hear a drawer open.

"Mikey, remember: You wanted this, okay? So don't scream, because Gerard's in the other room." I love it when he sounds so dangerous.

The drawer closes and at first there's only a cloth gagging me so I can't scream. Then, all at once, he thrusts himself into me. At first I whimper, but it's not nearly as bad as it was the first time. I think he's used some lube now, and I'm kind of stretched out already. He starts moving and I swear to God it only gets better. Holy shit. I try to move and make it go faster, but he just holds me still.

"Stop squirming or I'll have to tie you to the bed." he demands. I've never seen him so focused.

He flips me over and I struggle to my knees, but since my arms are tied behind my back I end up on my knees and face as he grabs my hips and goes as deep and hard as physically possible.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Frank." I scream, but he can hardly hear it because of the gag.

"Stop squealing you little bitch." he replies. He's really into character. I know he doesn't mean a word of what he's saying, but he knows what gets me off.

I push back at him, and he tenses up, hips thrusting faster and faster, and harder and harder, I hear a whiney moan from his part that I hadn't expected, and then he's leaning on my back completely exhausted and I collapse.

The last thing I feel is his arms around me and a peck on the cheek as I fall sound asleep.

The next morning I'm so sore. So is Frank. We decide to take a shower because Gerard is still sleeping. Both of us are walking funny but we just pray to god Gee doesn't notice and that he didn't hear anything last night because that would be awkward. We're covered in bruises

After our warm shower Frank starts making breakfast and I set the table. Slowly Gerard comes to life.

"Oh God, what time is it?" we hear from the couch.

Frank giggles and says "eeh, it's ten thirty."

Gerard sits up and stretches, eyes still closed. I bring him a coffee and as he slowly wakes up he realizes what day it is.

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" he exclaims.

"Yup." I reply, already aware.

He turns to look out the window.

"Snow." He mumbles, grinning.

We decided not to buy any gifts this year because we need the cash, which is why I was caught off guard when I was handed a big wrapped box and wished a merry Christmas by the both of them.

"We both chipped in." Gerard states.

I open it as fast as I can. What the hell could it be?! Inside of the wrapping paper there's a big cardboard box.

"Aww. A cardboard box, you shouldn't have." I joke. They don't laugh, but are staring intensely at me waiting for a reaction.

I open the box, and inside of it there is the most beautiful red fender bass I've ever seen. My fingers run across the surface of the body and strings. I look at my boyfriend and brother in confusion.

"This is too much." I say.

"We want you to be in our band. [i]Please[/i]." Frank replies, smiling from ear to ear, puppy-dog eyes back.

I just nod. This is the happiest moment of my life. If I practice enough I might have a chance. I mean they're already so good. I don't even have to be, I can just pretend. I can't believe they want [i]me[/i].

Gerard pats my back. "Good choice baby brother." He's smiling so much; he's got to be keeping something from me. "We weren't writing yesterday, we were playing a gig. There was an A&R guy there. We got signed."

Holy shit. Shit. Holy fucking shit. No way. I can't even process it. "No way." I scream and punch his shoulder. He punches me back and gets me in a head lock.

Frank just jumps in place.

"That wasn't even the best part." he laughs.

I don't know how much more I can take.

"We're going on tour after new-years."

NO WAY! I'm getting out of here. I'm finally getting out. I'm going to be okay. I'm okay. There's a chance for us. We can make it! I'm okay!


	23. Chapter 23

It's been a whole month since we left for tour. Wow. Time flies. Everything leading up to our tour was so exciting as well as stressful. Gerard kept me grounded though. I kept having panic attacks because I didn't feel like I was good enough, as a musician or as a person, but he kept reminding me that it doesn't matter. Other people see me differently and even if they don't, what does it matter? They can't decide if I'm going to be happy or not, I won't let them.

The road flies by beneath our home-on-tours wheels. It's started to get dark out and I can feel my eyes start drooping. It's probably a good idea to pull over soon, but I just love the feeling of driving. The feeling that you're on the move, something is happening and no one can catch you now.

Before we got up on stage for our fist gig as a band, it felt like I was going to die. My heart was pounding so hard I could hardly breathe. Frank kept telling me to breathe which was freaking me out even more because I physically couldn't. Luckily, when we got on stage there were only like 5 people there. They were all pretty drunk and sitting at the bar. I'm totally not saying that they weren't enthusiastic though. They were plenty enthusiastic, y'know, cheering and clapping. Two of them cheered so much they puked. That was kind of awkward and we had to try to ignore them.

We can't actually afford anything, and I'm starving most of the time, but we get by. I guess this is how every band starts out. At times it's painful, but in its own way it's so magical. Some days I just feel like shit. Not having showered or eaten in days can get pretty gross. Seeing your own reflection in the mirror can get pretty awful.

I only packed like three shirts and I've worn all of them. They're starting to smell funny because of the weird places we've been.

The other day we were playing a show in a basement, and some dude puked on Gerard. There was no stage and the guy was right next to me, there were like 30 kids crammed into one tiny basement. It was awesome. I moved just in time for the one kid who was about my age to cram his fingers down his throat and vomit all over Gee. I couldn't stop laughing for the rest of the show. Neither could Frank. Gerard is an amazing performer, and he made it seem like he didn't even notice.

We play where ever we can get a gig so sometimes that means many hours in a van, no place to sleep and a pretty shitty show, but that's fine.

We decided that we should get another guitar player and a drummer if we want to sound like a real band. Usually we just get a random kid at the show to play drums for us and we can live like that because we don't know anyone who can play, but Gerard remembered that his friend Ray was an insane guitarist, so he called him.

Ray said that the second he's done with high school, which is a couple of months; he'll come on tour with us. He also said that he knew a drummer from Chicago looking for a job after graduation. So for the time being we're fine. We get just enough food and rest to get by, and living like this is so much better than waiting to live.

We take shifts on driving the van. It gets exhausting after a couple of hours and I usually need a break after about five.

Outside of our van the evening has turned into night. I pull over into a pocket on the side of the highway, ready to get some rest after a long day of driving. The second we pull over Frank leaps into the backseat so he can spread out. Gerard has already fallen asleep in the back, leaning against the window. I've been driving and don't want to be left alone in the front seat, so I join them. We're currently in a big huddle in the backseat, me leaning on Frank and Frank on Gerard. The other two are asleep.

Sometimes, when I'm thinking about the way things were and the way things are I start to miss the way they were. I just miss not having anything to lose, but then I remember that I was drowning. Things are so much better now and I'm happy about that.

At times I might miss being small and having no worries or enemies, but things move on and change and no one can stop that. I'm going to make the best of that. Things are good now. I'm happy. Things have finally changed and I'm never going back.

A while back, about a year ago, things were dark. I thought they wouldn't get any better. Life just consisted of surviving another day, forcing myself to stay alive for Gerard, but things change. They can change in the blink of an eye.

I shift my weight in my seat and Frank's eyes flutter open. He shakes his shabby looking black hair out of the beautiful, hazel eyes I fell in love with.

"You're awake." He whispers.

"Mhm."

He puts his arms around me and kisses my forehead. "Try to get some sleep, babe. Relax, you don't need to figure out the meaning of life tonight." He jokes.

I giggle and put my head on his chest. As sleep creeps up on me I think about how the night is dark. Darker than usual I mean. Not one star is to be seen in the deep blue sky. Not one star is shining, showing its existence this pitch black night.

Sure, it is very dark out but I know they're there, the stars. Behind the clouds, somewhere, they are out there shining just as bright as they always do.

If the night seems to dark just remember that if you make it through there will be another night, another chance to see the stars and just because you can't see them doesn't mean that they're not there.

This band, Frank, Gerard and I, we are different, we are on the verge of something special, something amazing, I can feel it. I know that things are only getting better from here.


End file.
